The Hounds of Smallville
by Mainstream
Summary: Set between “Perry” and “Relic”, this story finds Clark fighting – even becoming – a werewolf in the first stages of the story. Further investigation leads him to Ireland, where he teams up with Lionel Luthor to combat a whole pack.
1. Prologue An Irish Souvenir

"The Hounds of Smallville" Prologue  
  
*One month ago*  
  
The full moon glimmered in the sky, breaking through the large clouds and defying the humid air, which was thick with fog. Various insects chirped and buzzed through the cabin of teenager Edward Drake, keeping him from falling into a much-needed sleep.  
  
He would never forget that fateful day over eleven months ago when his mother, a botanist, came home and announced that they would be moving from Gotham City to Ireland for a year. Both Edward and his father asked why.  
  
"Mister Wayne needs me to investigate some strange plants growing like weeds in his experimental fields in Ireland," explained Sara Drake. "We need to move immediately, so get up! Pack!"  
  
Edward's father, Colin, looked enraged. "Now wait here, don't I get a say in this?"  
  
"Or me?" Edward asked meekly.  
  
Sara merely ignored Edward and looked dead at his father. "You're from Ireland! You still have a light Irish accent and you're telling me you don't want to visit your homeland?"  
  
"'Course I do, but I refuse to just be told to stuff everything in a suitcase and move halfway across the world in an instant!"  
  
"We have until the end of the week, Colin, calm down."  
  
"What about my position at the plant?"  
  
"Mister Wayne talked to them. Your job will be waiting for you the moment you get back. I don't see how you can find that a good thing."  
  
After an hour of more arguing, Edward's father finally gave up and agreed to move to Ireland (though he still rambled occasional things like, "A year? How long does it take to investigate some shrubs?" or "I had golf planned this weekend. Now I'll have to cancel.") and stomped upstairs to his room for his daily nap.  
  
Edward merely went outside and played basketball with himself. He had few friends, and was sad to say good-bye to them, but he knew deep inside that it would only take them a couple of days before they forgot all about him. They never had really cared where or how he ended up.  
  
They hadn't moved into a luxury suite as Colin had originally thought, but into small cabins near the field where Sara was working. Edward got a cabin all to himself and was happy for that. He could get out his notepad and write for hours about living a better life somewhere in the Far East or in an underwater city, like Atlantis.  
  
At night, however, when the insects were greatly active, he was almost literally bugged to death. On his first night, he thought he would succumb to insanity from hearing the drowning tone of insect wings flapping and zipping around the room.  
  
Tonight, he had enough. He tossed on some jeans and a T-shirt and ventured outside of his cabin and into the night. There was a narrow road that led from his cabin all the way to town, which wasn't much farther than a mile away. He'd sneak into a bar and have few beers and converse with the locals, or so he thought hopefully.  
  
Indeed, the first building he came across was a bar, as upscale as you could get in as small a town he was in now. There was even a limousine parked outside. There can't be any town smaller than this, thought Edward.  
  
He peeked in through the foggy window and saw that many people were still awake, partying without a care in the world and singing and dancing and laughing. It must have been midnight, but none of the drunks cared, for they would have more alcohol to wash away any guilt or worries. They wouldn't have to worry about driving drunk because they either slept in the bar or had an apartment right down the street that they could walk to.  
  
Edward tiptoed to the other end of the building and peered in through another window and was shocked by what he saw.  
  
It was his mother, sitting across the table from a man with long, rich, flowing hair the color of a deep mahogany and a beard equally as fascinating. His eyes were a piercing cold green that reflected a rare ruthlessness that was nearly impossible to top. This man had made the papers back in America several times and Edward instantly recalled his name: Lionel Luthor.  
  
Unsure of exactly what his mother was doing with one of the richest men in the world, Edward decided that he intended to find out. He successfully stepped into the bar unnoticed and hid in a booth behind the one where Lionel and Edward's mother sat. He was lucky. They were just in the midst of their conversation.  
  
"I have a very secured contract to Wayne Enterprises, I can't – " protested Sara.  
  
"But you haven't even heard my offer. Triple what Mister Wayne is paying, and from my understanding, that's quite a bit," chuckled Lionel. "All your bonds to the Wayne Foundation, Wayne Enterprises, and WayneTech will be null and void."  
  
"I don't have anything to do with WayneTech."  
  
"Sure you don't," said Lionel cryptically.  
  
"I don't see why my work is so important to you. I'm just a botanist."  
  
"Oh, and the highest in your field! You see, I've been digging into the work of a former, well, a brief associate. He..." Lionel lowered his voice to a bare whisper and leaned in closely to Sara. Edward could not hear him. "He resurrected a long extinct flower."  
  
"How?" asked Sara quite loudly, leading to an urgent "ssh!" from Lionel. She whispered, "How?"  
  
"He cloned it."  
  
Sara looked at him like he was a madman, and if she knew better, perhaps she could have realized much earlier that he most likely was. He chuckled at the look she gave him and leaned in to whisper in her ear again and said, "I too, have had my own little experiments with playing God.  
  
"But, you see, we had different methods, and the one I used was not quite satisfying. I want to know how he did it. I want his formula. And then, you will show me how I can perform it on humans."  
  
Sara had a look of near horror on her face, not certainly understanding what she being asked to do other than resurrect a flower the way someone else had done it before her. "I don't know... How soon would you want me to begin on this?"  
  
Lionel cleared his throat and spoke at a regular volume so Edward could hear again. "Well, you'll finish your work here in Ireland, report back to Gotham City with whatever findings you've collected, and then you can join your family in Smallville. I think it would be more convenient if they went on ahead and moved there, don't you?"  
  
"If you say so. I guess they wouldn't object," murmured Sara in a low voice. Edward had to keep himself from jumping up and choking his mother.  
  
After a few more minutes of small talk and polite chitchat, they decided to get up and leave. Miraculously, they didn't notice Edward as they passed him. As they reached the door, Sara turned to face Lionel's gaze. "Why did you choose for us to meet in a bar at midnight?"  
  
"In a bar, there are much less people who are interested in anything they possibly could have overheard. And at midnight, well, it makes the whole scene much more exciting. It's invigorating! Don't you think?"  
  
They left just as a strong, beefy hand grasped the back of Edward's shirt. A booming voice asked him, "What are you doing here?!"  
  
"Clubbing?" answered Edward. The man wasn't amused and dragged Edward to the door. He used his foot to slam open the door and was just about to throw Edward out into the street when he heard a wolf's howl, causing him to look up at the sky, where he spotted the full moon.  
  
"Oh... Oh, no, no, no! The night is no place for a child to be out in!" murmured the beefy man. He dragged Edward back into the bar and led him to a storage room in the back. The storage room was cluttered, but the man knew what he was looking for. He tossed aside random articles of clothes and uncovered a large trunk.  
  
The man opened the trunk, revealing canes, rifles, and what appeared to be ammunition made of silver. The rifles and canes were made of silver as well. He pulled out a cane and handed it to Edward. "You'll be needing that."  
  
"What for?" asked Edward.  
  
"In case you're attacked by a wolf. You just strike it with that cane hard as you can and it's nighty-night for the wolf," explained the man. "By the way, m' name's Ellem."  
  
"I'm Edward," he introduced. Edward peered over Ellem's shoulder and eyed the rifle. "Can I have a gun?"  
  
Ellem chuckled, "No, but I'll tell you what. Here's a pack of silver bullets – little souvenir from Ireland for you. I can tell you're a tourist."  
  
Edward took the ammo from Ellem's hands and eyed it eagerly. Ellem remembered that Edward was a kid and snapped, "Get out of here! Or you'll cost me m'job!"  
  
He didn't need to be told twice. He burst out of the storage room and weaved through the crowd of drunken people. Before he knew it, he was outside in the cold, wet night. The limousine was gone and his mother was probably already halfway back to the cabins.  
  
Oh well. I wouldn't want my mom to see me sneaking out at night anyway, thought Edward. He was already on the road back to the cabin when he realized how silly he was to have believed Ellem. Werewolves? Someone's watched waaay too many movies. Still, the bullets and the cane weren't bad souvenirs from the town, now were they? They made him feel safer and secure.  
  
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!  
  
Then again, he said the cane would protect him against wolves; Ellem never mentioned werewolves. Edward quickened his pace and didn't notice the fog begin to lift.  
  
Even thought the fog had cleared, the trail back to the cabin seemed darker than ever. He had no idea whether he was still on the road or heading into the forest. A shroud of shadow and darkness was lowered over him, with the only source of illumination being the full moon – and it didn't bother to brighten anything up.  
  
With a loud THUMP, he fell to the ground. He must have tripped over a root, nothing more. He forced himself to his feet and brushed the dirt off of himself, then realized that he dropped his cane. Where is it? he wondered.  
  
He fell to his knees and searched the ground with his hands like a blind man desperately searching for his cane. He thought he had found it when something behind him gave a low, hissing snarl.  
  
"GRRRRRRRRRRRRR..."  
  
Slowly, he turned his head to look in the direction of the growl. All he saw was two, red, eye-shaped dots.  
  
In an instant, the snarler was on him, much to fast for a human to have done it. From the drool dripping onto his face, Edward could tell that his assailant was definitely an animal. From the growl, he suspected that the animal was a dog.  
  
From the gnawing on his chest, he guessed it was hungry.  
  
Edward felt little. His right hand was numb and laid by his side, while his left hand was still on the spot where he had felt the cane. Meanwhile, the dog was moving up from chomping on his chest to lightly chewing his neck.  
  
Thoughtlessly, Edward clutched the cane tightly and slammed into the dog's (or was it a wolf?) skull.  
  
Yelping, the dog jumped off and limped into the darkness. After a few seconds, he could hear a low moaning of sadness, like it was in pain. A minute passed, and the dog died.  
  
Edward tried to get up, but his legs didn't respond. The pitch-blackness cleared, revealing the moon. Edward looked around, using the moonlight to identify his surroundings.  
  
There was a pool of blood all around Edward. Blood seeped from slashes in his chest and a nick in his neck. Utterly horrified by the sight and the smell, Edward passed out. 


	2. Chapter 1 First Hunt

Chapter 1 *Present day*  
The Kansas air reflected the mid-fall season status: crisp and chilly, yet brisk and energizing. The harvest would be coming up soon, but at the moment that was the last thing a certain alien teenager was interested in.  
Clark Kent walked out into the middle of a field, quite some distance from the house and the barn behind him and the woods around him. He carried a large piece of rock that resembled some sort of totem pole on his shoulders, using his extraordinary strength to keep from dropping the stone.  
He slammed it into the ground and brushed the dirt off of his gloves. He looked around him using his x-ray vision to make sure no prying eyes were spying on him. The last thing he needed was another reporter like Perry White discovering his secret, and that had happened only yesterday.  
X-ray vision revealed no one watching, satisfying Clark. He pulled back his fist and pummeled it into the stone totem. With a pleasing CRACK!, it shattered into several different pieces of small rock, much to Clark's delight. In a blur, Clark disappeared and was replaced by a plaid tornado that spun quickly around the rubble. A second later, the tornado was replaced by Clark, who looked admiringly at his work: a pyramid made of dust.  
Good, my powers are completely back to normal, thought Clark to himself. Even though the recent solar flare – which had caused Clark's powers to increase, disappear, and act without warning – had passed, Clark found himself weakened from the ordeal and had not yet been able to perform his abilities to the maximum until this moment. This crude test had successfully proved his powers were recharged.  
Deciding to clean the rubble later, Clark super-sped back into his house and straight to the kitchen. His mother was at the stove cooking pancakes while his best friend Pete Ross sat at the counter already eating the first batch.  
"Haven't I experienced this scene before?" asked Clark. "Only Pete was munching on Mom's waffles instead of the pancakes."  
"Clark! Where were you?" asked Martha Kent, his mother. "Pete's already eaten five pancakes, and is on his sixth and seventh."  
"Yeah, there'll be none left for your dad," added Pete.  
"Not after I'm done," smiled Clark. He pulled up a chair and sat at the table next to the counter. Martha stacked three pancakes onto a plate and handed it to Clark. He took it and began eating immediately. "Mmm. Thanks, ma'. Seven pancakes, Pete? Where does it all go?"  
"It's for an upcoming growth spurt, for your information."  
"How long have you been expecting this growth spurt?"  
Pete chuckled, "Two years. But I can tell that it's coming up real soon."  
"Sure, Pete, whatever you say."  
After breakfast, Pete and Clark got up, said good-bye to Jonathon and Martha, and headed for the driveway. Pete's car was waiting for them and eagerly purred to life when Pete put the key in ignition.  
"Great folks, man," commented Pete as he drove the car out of the driveway.  
"You've mentioned that before," smirked Clark.  
"Powers working all right?"  
"More or less. I tested them earlier. They're working at standard performance, but it's the least the of my worries anyway."  
Pete was puzzled, "Why?"  
"I have to find a way to either fix the tractor or get a job to score some money and buy a new one. The insurance company called. They said that they didn't want anything to do with us after the explosion. It's a miracle that they agreed to pay for the truck damages."  
Pete gave a low whistle, "That sucks. Wish I could help.  
"You can," a mysterious grin emerged on Clark's face. "You can help me find a job after school today."  
"Sorry, not today."  
"Why not?"  
"This new kid just moved here from Ireland. Sheriff Adams found out pretty soon, and you know how wary she gets when it comes to people who move into this town. Anyway, she slipped the info to my mom after a trial. Now she wants me to show him around Smallville today."  
"That should only take an hour," said Clark. "All there is in Smallville is the Talon and the tour's done. Speaking of which, drop me off there."  
Pete's car pulled up in front of the Talon building, allowing Clark to get out. He said a brief good-bye to his friend before entering the coffee shop. The marquee above him read "TONIGHT – WOLF MAN". Clark chuckled, "Is it still fright week?"  
He was shocked to see how crowded it was this morning. In the corner he spotted Chloe, who gave a polite wave to him. Lana was serving a mug of coffee to a customer, but saw him. She smiled and walked over to him. "Hey, Clark."  
"Lana, hey. Busy morning. I thought you'd already be at school."  
"I should be. Chloe drove me over here and offered to wait for me. Then," she glanced around, "everyone arrived. I can't leave until my replacement gets here."  
"I'll wait for her," offered Clark. "You'll be late if you don't leave soon and I've worked here before. I think the sooner Chloe gets out of here, the happier she'll be."  
"Won't you be late?"  
"I've got a ride," Clark lied.  
"Well, my books are in the back. Do you want coffee?" she offered. Clark nodded, but Lana was already on her way to the back. She returned with her books in one hand and a to-go cup for Clark. "Just put it on my tab. Mona should be here soon."  
"See you at school." Clark found an apron and began taking customers' orders. Ten minutes later and Mona hadn't shown up. In ten more minutes, the school bell would ring. If Clark didn't make it to school on time, the gate to the school would be locked and Clark would be suspended for being late.  
Finally, two minutes before school started, Clark heard a car park behind the Talon building. Mona rushed inside through the back apologizing, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! My car wouldn't start this morning!"  
The instant she finished her words, Clark through off his apron and ran out of the Talon, accelerating to super-speed once he was outside.  
Thirty seconds later, he was calmly (whistling leisurely, in fact) walking into his homeroom with his schoolbooks in hand.  
* * *  
Miles away, in Metropolis, Lex Luthor stepped out of his Porsche and looked up at the LuthorCorp building. He murmured to himself, "Thanks, dad."  
The moment he stepped into the hall, everyone snapped to attention. Lex had to chuckle to himself when he thought about how easily he could command attention and the people it came from.  
In the elevator on the way up, no one dared to press the buttons until after Lex had. No one stepped out of the elevator until he did, and they dutifully made way for him to walk through.  
On the way to his office, people were less respectful. Oh, they were polite, yes, but most were not afraid to speak up to him and they didn't rush to open doors for him. He stepped into his office, which was the most spacious one in the building...except for his father's.  
He sat down at his desk and shuffled through some papers. The one he was looking for was a list of the people that had been employed in the last month. Lex had made a note to memorize each and every one of their names, but he had to make sure that no error had occurred. It was a standard procedure.  
He found it under the book he was reading, Gone With The Wind (one he found rather uninteresting) and skimmed through the names. One in particular caught his eyes: Drake, Sara. The amount she was making was incredible for a mere employee. It nearly rivaled his own salary. Under status, it read "temporary employee", meaning that she was probably a scientist being funded for a personal project. Anything Lionel was interested in, however, was probably of interest to Lex. He made a note of the name and wrote it down on a post-it sticky.  
* * *  
"The Talon, local hangout for teens," introduced Pete. He gazed admiringly at the building, truly appreciating all the effort and hard work that Lana had put into it.  
"I was wrong," mumbled Edward. "There is a town smaller."  
"What?" asked Pete.  
"Nothing. So... this is it? No pizzeria, no video store, no movie theater..."  
"This is the movie theater. It's behind the coffee shop. There's pizza at the Italian restaurant down the street and we do have a video store over by the library," said Pete, annoyed.  
Edward looked up. "'Wolf man'. Gee, how long before Star Wars premieres here?"  
Pete grew extremely annoyed and nearly assaulted Edward right there on the spot, but he managed to keep self-control. Edward was looking up and down the street when he caught sight of an old-looking warehouse. "Pete, is that building over there abandoned?"  
"Yeah, so?"  
"No reason."  
* * *  
It was happening.  
The night that Edward had been attacked by the wild dog, he found himself lying in a pool of his own blood. He should have died from the loss, but he miraculously recovered. When he awoke, about an hour before dawn, he found his wounds completely healed and the dog gone.  
I thought it was dead. Who...what moved it? thought Edward to himself. He got up and ran the rest of the way back to the cabin.  
The night after, he found his room in shreds when he woke up. Luckily, that was the last full moon night, and he stopped waking up to strange environments.  
The move to Smallville had occurred a week before Pete gave him a tour, and he spent it mostly shut up in his new room at his computer, searching for details on the moon. Tonight would be the first night of the full moon.  
He told his mother and father that he'd be out for a stroll and would be home soon. It was a lie, of course. He went straight to the warehouse and shut himself up in one of the cold, empty rooms. Edward had no memory of any transformations, nor did he want to, so he forced himself to sleep.  
That didn't stop the change. The clouds cleared and the full moon was like a sun in the night sky. Though he didn't know it, Edward's hair was growing; his fingernails were becoming claws; his teeth transformed into fangs; his feet were powerful enough to send him high if he were to jump; his ears sharpened.  
A second mind was created – one ruled by pure instinct. It told him to go out and hunt. Fresh meat would be the only thing that satisfied his twisted mind. Go out now. Hunt.  
The door was no match for the wolf's incredible strength. He ripped it off of its hinges and leaped out the doorway. His nose led him outside to the bare Main Street. There would be no prey here.  
His nose led him into the countryside, where he found farms. Instinct told him there was blood flowing through the veins of some poor, unlucky animal – or human.  
He found a victim, but he didn't care whether it was sentient or instinct-based like him. He tore through the neck and licked the blood, tracing it to its source. After a moment of embarrassing struggling, he found the heart and yanked it out with his powerful jaw. It filled his stomach satisfyingly. Now for the liver. 


	3. Chapter 2 Signs of Things to Come

Chapter 2  
  
Jonathon Kent looked sadly at the fields of livestock in front of him from his post atop of a small hill. The sun was low in the sky, but as a farmer, that didn't matter to him. Clark spotted him and walked up to him. He could tell that there was something wrong. "Dad?"  
  
"Son? What time is it?" asked Jonathon, snapping out of his trance.  
  
"It's almost seven. I came out to do my chores when I saw you up here. There something wrong?"  
  
Jonathon gazed back out at the cows again, and Clark saw what he was looking at. A mauled cow was lying on its side, surrounded by other cows that went along their business. The head was gruesomely torn off and lay a few feet away. Intestines and stomachs were scattered all around. Even Clark thought that he would vomit from the sight, but instead he looked at his father. "What happened?"  
  
"I don't know, but if anything could do that to one cow, I can't imagine what we would do if it came back for the others," said Jonathon. "Why don't you go get ready for school, huh?"  
  
Clark nodded and went back into the house.  
  
* * *  
  
Edward's first class of the day, Algebra II, was with Chloe Sullivan, editor of the Smallville High school newspaper – the Torch. They sat next to each other, and Chloe immediately grew an interest in him (a professional one, of course).  
  
"Gotham City? What's it like there? Is it really true that it's held up by statues of angels?" asked Chloe.  
  
Edward chuckled, "No, of course not. There's a park in town square with four angel statues looking in each direction: North, East, South, and West. Most people think that the angels hold up all the highways and bridges because they saw pictures of them holding up a miniature city. The rest of it's pretty modern. No weird buildings shaped like gargoyles or anything like that. What about Metropolis?  
  
"Metropolis? Nothing at all like this little hick town. Skyscrapers that touch the sky; buildings that kind of resemble something you'd see in a movie about the future; the Daily Planet; all sorts of stuff there. At night, it looks beautiful, like the night sky lowers into the city and all the lights that are still on in the buildings look like stars," told Chloe. "And it has the best police squad in America."  
  
"No way, that's Central City."  
  
"Please, their CPD couldn't catch a cold. Wait, that joke is really old."  
  
Their teacher interrupted them and instructed them to get out there notebooks and a pencil. Edward searched his jacket pockets for a pencil, and for the first time Chloe noticed all the dark brown fur on him.  
  
"Shedding?" she asked.  
  
Edward blushed and frantically brushed the fur off of him. "No, I have a dog. He must have slept on the jacket or something..."  
  
And that was the moment when Chloe saw the Smallville mark of WEIRD etched onto Edward's face. As much as she hated suspecting someone for a tiny thing like that, journalism always came first.  
  
* * *  
  
"If I ever have to listen to Mr. Thompson rant on about Patriotism ever again, I'm moving to Canada," Pete told Lana as they walked down the hall.  
  
"You got to respect that man. He was in the Vietnam War; he's a veteran," reminded Lana. "He fought for this country."  
  
"Well that's great and all – I'll respect that – but I, personally, would prefer to serve the country behind the relative safety of a desk. Imagine it: President Ross," suggested Pete.  
  
"It's got a nice ring to it. But set your sight a little bit lower."  
  
"Vice-President Ross?"  
  
"Congressman Ross."  
  
"I can do better than that. Senator Ross."  
  
"I admire your interest in your own future, Mr. Ross," said a voice from behind the two teens. "But I must suggest that you hurry on to your next class. The bell rings in a couple of minutes."  
  
"Principal Reynolds!" they said in unison. Pete spoke up, "All right, sir. But tell me, how high do you think I could get in political power?"  
  
Principal Reynolds smiled, "For all we know, you could be dictator of the world. But just consider Principal Peter Ross as a career goal. Now, move along."  
  
"Yes, sir." When Principal Reynolds turned away to scold a child for eating in the hallways, Pete whispered to Lana, "I think President Ross is better."  
  
"Whatever you say, Pete," giggled Lana. She waved good-bye to her friend as she took a right and left for her next class just as Clark joined up with Pete.  
  
"Hey, Pete. I thought you'd still be showing Edward around," noted Clark.  
  
"That stuck-up guy?"  
  
"Chloe doesn't seem to think he's stuck up." Ahead of them, Chloe and Edward were walking together towards them. Chloe waved hello to them, pointed Edward in the direction of his next class, and joined up with Clark and Pete.  
  
"New guy's pretty cool," noticed Chloe.  
  
"Translation: you're going to investigate him, aren't you, Chloe?" asked Pete.  
  
"Can you blame me? All the guys I date mostly turn out to be homicidal freaks." Clark flinched, but Chloe pressed on. "I like this guy, yet, I want to be absolutely sure he hasn't been messing around with meteor rocks and sprouting wings."  
  
"That would be cool. Flying, I mean," said Clark shyly.  
  
"Yeah, especially if you didn't need wings. I'm off to the Torch office. My second period teacher lets me go there on Thursdays," announced Chloe proudly.  
  
"So you've reminded us. C'mon, Clark. Time for the wonders of Trigonometry."  
  
Clark followed Pete silently.  
  
* * *  
  
"Dad, who is Sara Drake?" asked Lex as he came into Lionel Luthor's luxury office.  
  
"A botanist. She's working in the...LuthorCare division," replied Lionel without looking up from the papers he was inspecting.  
  
"Making nearly as much as me?"  
  
"That money's for research purposes. Funding, I suppose. She has a family to support, and you, well..."  
  
Lex pretended to be hurt, "Ouch, dad. I didn't think either of my marriages were as bad as yours."  
  
Lionel flinched. "Your first wife controlled you and the second left you for dead on a falling plane. I'm glad you didn't spend your life permanently with either of them. Can you blame me for wishing you'd never married at all?"  
  
"Yeah, that would of kept me out of the tabloids, huh? Dad, what is Mrs. Sara Drake working on?"  
  
"That's top secret." Lionel put his signature on a paper. He shuffled around and found a folder, which he looked through. His act wasn't fooling Lex; Lionel was trying to act busy so he wouldn't have to answer any questions,  
  
"I'm the heir to LuthorCorp, aren't I? Don't I deserve to know? Maybe you'd like to put me in charge?"  
  
Lionel finally glanced up at Lex. "Is that what this is about? You want to be in charge of a project?"  
  
Lex shrugged, "We have a lot of them. I'm sure you could find one just lying around, wasting away..."  
  
Lionel sighed. He slammed down his pen and opened a cabinet on the left side of his desk, pulling out a folder with a considerable amount of papers inside. "I'll sign over control to you later. In the meantime, why don't you look through the summary...in your own office."  
  
Lex nodded and left Lionel's office. Lionel tried, but couldn't repress a chuckle once he was gone. 


	4. Chapter 3 The Bite

Chapter 3  
  
Jonathon cocked the rifle and checked the sights. He laid it carefully on the table and went into the kitchen for a glass of milk. Nothing's getting on this farm without answering to me.  
  
Clark came down the stairs and spotted the rifle. "Dad? Why do you have the gun out?"  
  
Jonathon hesitated, "Just...cleaning it."  
  
Clark used his x-ray vision and inspected the rifle. "While it was loaded?"  
  
Jonathon sighed. "Clark...I was loading the gun so I could stand guard tonight. If that beast tries to come back on our farm, it's gonna' be hell. I knew you would –"  
  
"Try to stop you?" finished Clark. He picked up the gun and went to put it away. When he returned, he looked a bit calmer. "If you want to make sure the animals are all right, why don't you just let me stand guard?"  
  
"You're a teenager. You have to get some sleep."  
  
"I don't need sleep nearly as much as you do. Please, there's less of a chance anyone will get hurt if I stand guard."  
  
"No, I –"  
  
"Dad!"  
  
Jonathon sighed again. "All right. But try to do your chores for tomorrow while you're up."  
  
"Absolutely," Clark smiled. Jonathon forced a smile of his own and took a cookie with him upstairs.  
  
* * *  
  
Dear God, I am such an idiot, thought Clark. It had been raining sheets of pounding rain for hours now. He checked his watch. It was 3:46 A.M. He hoped that it meant the predator wouldn't bother to come since it was so late.  
  
Clark curled himself up into a fetal position and looked sadly at the sky. The clouds obscured his view of the stars, one of Clark's favorite things to look at.  
  
But for an odd reason, there was an opening in the clouds that revealed the bright moon. It was beautiful, yes, but it could not nearly hope to match the beauty of a sky of tiny dots that represented balls of gas and heat much larger than they appeared in the sky. One of those stars was his home. Or had been.  
  
From what he'd gathered last year from Doctor Virgil Swann, he was the last of an advanced race; a society that lived on the planet Krypton. He'd also learned that his alien name was Kal-El – and he'd even used the guise "Kal" when he had run away to Metropolis over the summer. Not one of the finer moments in my life...  
  
He also learned that he was supposedly destined to rule Earth. Remembering that detail alone made him more determined to stand in the rain and watch out for the stalker. He would prove his destiny wrong.  
  
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!  
  
Was that a wolf? The last wolf in Smallville had turned out to be a brief romantic interest.  
  
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr-rrroowwwlllllllllllll!  
  
Yes, that was definitely a wolf growl, but where was it coming from?  
  
Before Clark could contemplate the answer, he was assaulted from behind by a heavy figure. It snarled, hissed, and breathed down his neck. He could even feel the sickening cold drool fall down his spine as it oozed out of the wolf's mouth.  
  
In a blur, Clark spun around quickly until the wolf lost its hold on him. Shocked, the wolf retreated into the darkness. Clark switched to x-ray vision in hopes of spotting the beast through all the rain.  
  
Instead, the wolf knocked him down again. His face landed in a pond of mud, obscuring his vision, but he didn't worry about his dying dignity. The wolf was pummeling his fists (fists?) repeatedly into Clark's back and – and they hurt!  
  
Clark twisted his body around just enough so he could grab the wolf's arm. Forcing himself to his feet, Clark hurled the wolf as far away as possible, which was out of even his vision.  
  
The image of the wolf in the air was what shocked him: he had arms. His head was human-like. He basically looked like a human with a lot of hair. What the –?  
  
Adding a burst of super speed, Clark ran to the spot where the wolf (man-wolf?) had landed. He glanced around, but saw nothing. He turned around once more and saw the wolf charge him.  
  
His claws hit him first. Clark could feel the sharp claws tear through his jacket, through his shirt, and through his skin. Blood gushed out of his open wound and bled like Niagra Falls, staining the grass in a magnificent display of red. Clark thought he screamed, but the pain overwhelmed him so much he couldn't hear the snarl of his attacker even.  
  
Before his eyes (after they cleared), Clark watched the wolf go from a normal looking wolf – four legged, snout, ears on the top of skull – to the man-like wolf he had seen minutes before. This "man-wolf" leaned in to bite Clark's neck.  
  
Then time seemed to stop.  
  
Clark had entered his super-speed mode where he could think as fast as he could move. Frantically, Clark searched the area around him.  
  
They were in the meadow where Clark had stood testing his powers two days ago. And as luck would have it, the pile of rubble he'd left was right beside his skull. Thinking fast, Clark used his mouth to pick up a rock. Facing the wolf, Clark inhaled through his nose deeply and spit out the rock directly into its eye.  
  
The wolf howled in pain and loosened his grip on Clark. Taking advantage, Clark kicked the wolf man off and got up. He backed a meter away and looked at the wolf man. He was still reeling in pain and caressing his eye. He felt pity for the wolf briefly, but then remembered the slaughter of the cow. Clark aimed at the ground around the wolf man and fired his heat vision.  
  
A blazing wall of fire burst around the wolf man. To Clark's dismay, the rain almost immediately extinguished it. Smart move, idiot, Clark thought to himself. The wolf man even appeared to laugh. Still, the ground around him had become hot, and the wolf man did not seem to like that. He couched down low and jumped into the air, possibly higher than even Clark could jump.  
  
The wolf man landed yards away from Clark, paused, and jumped again – this time focusing more on the distance he covered than the height of his jump. Clark looked on in awe before snapping out of the brief trance and giving chase.  
  
Realizing he couldn't jump away, the wolf man transformed back into a normal wolf and began to run. He ran faster than was possible for any earthly canine, but then, Clark wasn't exactly earthly himself. He found himself challenged.  
  
They ran down Hickory Lane and an amazing speed. At the end of the road, the wolf veered right, then left, and then right again. After a few more turns, Clark completely lost sense of direction.  
  
The chase ended in the worse place possible for Clark to have imagined.  
  
The Luthor mansion.  
  
* * *  
  
Lex Luthor swore aloud. The "project" that Lionel had handed over to him was nothing more than a new deal proposing a new brand of fertilizer. All Lex would have to do was see that it got to the LuthorCorp researchers and make sure they found a suitable formula.  
  
CRASH! A figure broke through his window. What the hell was someone doing out at four in the morning? Of course, someone could have asked the same thing of Lex, but the dark circles under his eyes and the empty bottle of Scotch indicated that he wasn't up by choice.  
  
The figure was hairy, to say the least. At the end of his fingers were the sharpest fingernails Lex had ever seen. They resembled claws.  
  
The next thing Lex knew, the figure was on top of him, spilling saliva all over his expensive new shirt. A searing hot pain slashed through the side of his cheek, effectively knocking him unconscious from the overwhelming of pain. Next, the wolf man would bite him. Yes, a feast at last!  
  
He opened his mouth, revealing his large fangs, and just as he punctured the skin on his chest, he could feel two strong hands pull him away. Still, the damage was done. Blood slowly dripped down Lex's shirt.  
  
Frustrated, the wolf man slashed again at Clark, who foresaw the move and caught his arms. Carrying the wolf man, Clark walked over to the window and tossed him far, far away.  
  
Then, Clark turned to attend to his friend. Blood had splattered all over some important-looking documents, not to mention Lex's clothes, but when Clark checked the wound, he found that it had already sealed – leaving only a strange scar. 


	5. Chapter 4 The Morning After

Chapter 4  
  
"Ugh," groaned Lex. He sat up and inspected his surroundings. He was in his luxury bedroom on his king-sized bed. He kept his bedroom walls free of posters and instead had weapons like his foil and mace hung on one side and framed pictures of him with his mother on the other. If only you saw me now, mom. He was still in his clothes, except for his shirt, which was neatly laid on his night table.  
  
"What happened?" he murmured aloud. A sharp pain whipped through his chest as if trying to answer his question. He followed the path of pain to the source and found a scar shaped like a backwards "C" or a crescent moon. At the ends of it were two puncture marks that had sealed up. Weird.  
  
Lex shut his eyes and did his best to see if he could remember what had happened to him. All he could remember was his fury at his father for giving him such a crappy (literally) project and then... And then he saw a mental painting of a wolf.  
  
He sub-consciously scratched his neck; then his arm, his leg, his chest, his scar. It all led back to the scar, didn't it? Lex chuckled...and howled.  
  
* * *  
  
Jonathon was impatiently waiting for Clark, who didn't return to the house until nearly seven. When he arrived in the kitchen, Jonathon slammed his coffee mug on the table and embraced Clark in a hug. "Where were you?"  
  
"Dad..." Clark was momentarily speechless. "I saw what killed that cow."  
  
"Are you okay? What was it?"  
  
Clark looked blankly at his father in a search for words. "A wolf. I know we haven't had them in years, but..."  
  
"Last year, didn't you meet that girl, Kyla? She could turn into a wolf."  
  
"Dad, Kyla is dead. I don't think she rose out of the graveyard and came back to haunt the cows. But..."  
  
Jonathon was impatient. "What, Clark? You're holding out on me. Why are you so shocked? Tell me, what did you see?"  
  
Clark gulped. "This wolf could switch between a regular wolf and a wolf-man. It just stood up on its hind legs and began to wave its arms at me. I think it even laughed at me when I fell into the ground."  
  
"A wolf man?"  
  
"There's more. I chased it away from the cattle, but then it went into the streets. I was afraid it might find someone else so I followed it and we ended up at the Luthor Mansion."  
  
A look of horror struck Jonathon's face. He went back to the table and picked up his coffee, took a large sip, and put it back down on the table. "Was Lex awake when all this happened?"  
  
Clark nodded. "The wolf got in and bit Lex. I managed to get in after he was knocked out and saved him. I tossed the wolf into the woods, got Lex to safety, and chased to wolf again. But this time, it decided to run away instead of fighting me."  
  
"It probably thought it didn't have a chance against you."  
  
"That's the thing, it did. It hurt me!"  
  
Jonathon walked over to Clark again. "Son, you have to be careful. No more wolf chases; we'll leave this to the police."  
  
"Dad! If it can hurt me, than it's too powerful for Sheriff Adams and all the police. I have to see if I can stop it."  
  
"I'm not putting you in danger, son. It's my responsibility to protect you, and that's what I'm doing now."  
  
"No, dad. It hurt Lex – who will it go after next? Pete? Chloe?" Clark's voice wavered. "Lana? You or mom?"  
  
"Ok, I see what you're saying Clark, but you have to understand how...how frightening it is to see you in pain. Last time, when you and your mom got sick, I thought I'd never be able to live with myself if I had to go on without you two. I can't lose you. Besides, if that thing is on the same level of power as you, the only thing that could help you is if you got another boost like the one last week."  
  
Clark didn't say anything else.  
  
* * *  
  
Edward ran as fast as he could. If he didn't get home before his parents woke up, he'd be in major trouble. Not to mention that he'd be in an awkward position, considering he was naked. Two sets of clothing had been shredded thanks to his transformation, and he had to pay for clothes with his own money to hide his secret from his parents.  
  
His house was in sight. He leaped over the fence and into the backyard. Making sure all the lights were still off inside, Edward proceeded to climb up the tree planted outside his room. Making as little noise as possible, he crept into his room through his open window. He shivered. Chilly.  
  
Minutes later, he was showered and clothed and calmly walking down the stairs to the kitchen. His father was in the kitchen, cursing at the stove.  
  
"Where's mom?" asked Edward.  
  
"She had to go to work. Since we got back, Lionel Luthor has been top priority for her. I have to get to work soon, too. Breakfast is..." Colin peeked at the stove. "On your way to school, I hope."  
  
Edward nodded and left out the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey, Ed, want to come with me and some friends to the Talon later?" asked Chloe once he'd arrived at school.  
  
"Uh, sure. Which friends?" Edward asked, still a bit nervous about the night before.  
  
"Clark, Pete, Lana – she owns the place so we get a discount."  
  
"A high-schooler owns an entire business?" Edward scoffed. "Only in America."  
  
Chloe giggled, "I'll ignore that, but she actually co-owns it with Lex Luthor. Have you met him yet?"  
  
"No."  
  
"He's a bit of a coffee junkie himself. You'll probably meet him this afternoon. So are you coming?"  
  
"For cheap coffee, of course."  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel walked into Sara Drake's laboratory and inhaled deeply. "Nothing like the smell of flowers and local coffee in the morning, eh, Mrs. Drake?"  
  
"I suppose," murmured Sara, not looking up from her papers. "These notes... who wrote them?"  
  
"The late doctor Steven Hamilton did. How's the project coming along?"  
  
"Fine, I guess. I've figured out the method he used, but I still have to write down the formulas and results."  
  
"Are you ready to clone a plant?"  
  
Sara looked up, "Yes. What plant?"  
  
Lionel chuckled, "Why not the plant that you investigated in Ireland?"  
  
"I don't have it anymore."  
  
Lionel snapped his fingers. On cue, a security guard came in holding a pot with a flower already planted inside. "Now you do." 


	6. Chapter 5 Gathering

Chapter 5  
  
The Talon was a bustling beehive of teenagers with caffeine addictions making out, doing homework, listening to CD players or the radio (few people listened to the Talon's choice of a radio station, however), and drinking as much coffee as their wallets could afford. For Lex Luthor, that meant he could drink plenty, if not an infinite amount, of coffee. It was really no loss if he did; he co-owned the place with Lana and the money would eventually return to his pocket, albeit a few cents less.  
  
Clark was surprised to see him calmly sipping an expresso on the purple laced couch in the center of the coffee shop. He approached him cautiously. "Hey, Lex."  
  
Lex smiled and looked up from his book (Great Expectations) and smiled. "Clark, hi. I had a feeling that I'd find you here."  
  
"This is the only place you'll find a coffee junkie?"  
  
Lex turned his head at the counter, where Lana had just entered and was putting on an apron. She smiled at them before leaving to attend a grumpy couple at a table. Lex looked back at Clark. "I just had a feeling there'd be another attraction to this place for you."  
  
Clark blushed and sat down beside Lex. "Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, I like that book."  
  
"Well so do I, considering I have my own expectations to live up to. Are you waiting for someone?" asked Lex when he noticed Clark check the entrance.  
  
"Uh, yeah, Chloe and her new boyfriend, Edward." Clark looked down and twiddled his thumbs. "And Pete."  
  
"I sense a twinge of jealousy, but I'm certain I'm wrong. C'mon, Clark Kent – jealous? It'll never happen," joked Lex.  
  
Clark looked uncomfortable. "No, of course not. But I guess I've developed a little sense of paranoia. All the guys Lana and Chloe date usually turn out to be freaks. I can't help but be a little skeptical."  
  
"Uh-huh. Well, I'm sure Chloe has probably also figured this out, don't you?"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"And let's not forget she's been very investigative lately. I'm thinking she's probably loaded up every file online on this Edward guy – illegally, no less – and already knows his eating habits by now. She'll be all right."  
  
"You're probably right. So, what are you doing here? I heard from someone that you got hurt or something. Shouldn't you be at home?"  
  
"Nah. One minute, I'm doing work; the next, I'm in pain. Before I know it, I get knocked out and wake up in my bed. I had to get out of there. All I have are some bruises."  
  
"So...you don't remember anything?"  
  
"Is there something I should?"  
  
"Well, if I were in your position, I'd be a bit more curious." Careful what you say, Clark. "Or maybe you had too much scotch."  
  
Lex chuckled. "Probably."  
  
Lana joined them moments later and offered Clark a drink. He asked for a cappuccino with cream and a scone. She delivered both a couple of minutes later. Just as she had, Chloe, Pete, and Edward entered the Talon.  
  
"Hey, Clark," greeted Pete. Chloe and Edward walked hand-in-hand and Clark could swear that they had just come out of a wedding or something. Pete looked gloomily at them and shook his head. "An hour ago, I was in between them. Thirty minutes later, they were making out while I went in to the bathroom."  
  
Edward and Chloe pretended they didn't hear them. Lex felt a bit uneasy and got up. He squinted to see out the window. "Wow, it's already getting dark."  
  
Edward snapped when he heard that. "It is?!"  
  
Chloe looked puzzled. "What's wrong?"  
  
Edward gulped. "Nothing. I just want to...why is it so dark?"  
  
Pete gave a sarcastic tone. "Well, in winter, the days are shorter. You know, it's dark in the morning and dark in the evening."  
  
Edward looked like he would wring Pete's neck. "Don't be smart, wise-ass."  
  
"Hey! Hey, no fighting!" exclaimed Chloe. This attracted the attention of some customers. "Settle down, this is a public place. Go out into a cornfield to settle your differences. Pete! I didn't mean it!"  
  
Edward smiled to himself. The last place you want to meet me is in a cornfield at night, punk. I'll rip you to shreds and snap you in half like the little twig you are. And that farm boy, he's got it coming too. The rich dude, oh, he's going to get it. This blonde twit, she's totally – whoa, calm down, Eddie.  
  
Lana walked over to them and pretended she didn't know what was going on. "Uh, you guys want anything?"  
  
But this chick in pink – I'll get her.  
  
The three sat down in the chairs opposite of the couch that Lex and Clark sat on and chatted. Before they knew it, an hour had past and customers began to get up and leave.  
  
Outside, it was completely dark and the moon was rising. Edward could feel his body itch, like it was on fire.  
  
About the time everyone but Chloe, Clark, Pete, Lex, Edward, and Lana had left, Lex began to get the same sensation too. 


	7. Chapter 6 Edward vs Clark II

Chapter 6  
  
By seven o'clock in the evening, Sara Drake had successfully created an odd assortment of chemicals and isolated them into a canister filled with soil, fertilizer, and water. She then released spores into the canister and let them settle in the dirt.  
  
By seven thirty, her "wonder fertilizer" had accelerated the growth of the flower and was already a sprout. The fertilizer programmed a desire for more nutrition into the plant so that it would consume more much faster. The fertilizer supplied the extra nutrients that it desired – no – that it needed. Embedded in the code of life was a chemical residue that was responsible for the quick growth, which in turn cost more energy, which fueled the plant's need.  
  
By seven forty-five, the flower bloomed for the first time. But cloning the flower had been the easy part. The hard part would be adapting the technology so it could be used ... on humans.  
  
* * *  
  
"Lana, I've been thinking..." Clark began as he reached the counter. He checked over his shoulder to make sure no one would overhear him. All of the rest were deep in conversation, though Pete occasionally shot looks of disgust at Lex.  
  
Lana turned away from the coffee machine and faced Clark. "Yes?"  
  
"I...I have to pay for a new tractor and...well, do you think you could use an extra waiter?" asked Clark shyly.  
  
Disappointed, Lana responded, "Clark, you worked here last year – that didn't last a week. I'd like to believe you're responsible but you're always running off somewhere. Besides, it was kind of awkward being your employer."  
  
"Yeah, maybe I should ask Hank over at the hardware store (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Give yourself a pat on the back if you correctly guess which episode this is a shout-out to without having to go and look it up.)," muttered Clark.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. I understand. So, what do you mean it was awkward? I mean, I felt cool with working for you."  
  
Lana shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, well, you've saved my life so many times. I didn't realize how weird it would be until I started giving you orders. That was just... strange. But I would recommend you to anyone else, if that helps."  
  
"Not really. No one's hiring anyone. Maybe I should go to work at the plant."  
  
"Now that would be weird beyond belief. What would you do?"  
  
Clark shrugged and accepted a cup of coffee from Lana. He sipped it and smiled. "Like the stuff gods drink."  
  
From behind Clark, Edward leaped up from his couch in a fit of rage. He stormed past the tables and jogged up the stairs that led to the apartment above them. Lana exclaimed, "Hey! He can't go up there!"  
  
Chloe buried her face in her hands. Lex began to sweat, overcome by his own discomfort. Pete just snickered.  
  
Moments later, they hear a low growling that filled the entire building.  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel Luthor smiled as he walked into Sara's lab. The first thing he spotted was the cloned plant. "Ah, the experiment proved successful, I take it."  
  
"Quite. The plant reached maturity in only forty-five minutes," reported Sara dutifully.  
  
"And can we use a similar method to clone a Homo Sapien?"  
  
"Well, I did find the formula for the fertilizer that was largely attributed to the plant's acceleration in growth, but... I don't know how we could make it appropriate for human consumption, or where the clone would develop..."  
  
"I'm bringing in another expert to work on that. You're role in this project has ended, effective immediately."  
  
Sara was bewildered. "What?"  
  
"You heard me. As of now, there will be no record you ever worked for me. Keep your plant."  
  
* * *  
  
"Was that a growl?" asked Pete.  
  
"Yeah, it was," answered Clark. He indicated for them to stay back and ran up the stairs. The door had been jammed shut, so Clark pretended to make an effort to break in.  
  
Inside, there was nothing but dust, cobwebs, and some cardboard boxes. Hidden among the shadows was a cowering figure that shook violently. After a moment, the figure stopped shaking and stood up. It turned to face Clark.  
  
"Edward," said Clark needlessly.  
  
Edward had grown a couple of inches and a lot of fur. His nose had transformed into some sort of snout and his teeth into fangs. In a low voice, he uttered, "Now I remember."  
  
Edward tackled Clark and bit into his shoulder. Clark couldn't help but let out a piercing scream.  
  
Downstairs, everyone was alarmed by the scream. All of them except for Lex jumped to their feet and bolted for the stairs. Pete was the first to reach the stairs and urged them to stay back.  
  
"Pete, what if you get hurt?" asked Lana.  
  
"Better than you two getting hurt, so stay back!"  
  
They nodded and hesitantly went down the stairs, never peeling their eyes away from Pete. Lana murmured, "Be careful, Pete."  
  
Pete silently stepped into the apartment and watched the fight. Clark had thrown the wolf man off of him and clenched his shoulder, which bled freely. The only time Pete had ever seen Clark bleed was when he temporarily lost his powers, but it hadn't been nearly this bad – not even after being thrown into a car.  
  
Clark noticed Pete and gave him a look that said, "Get out of here!" but didn't say a word in fear that Edward would see him. He paid for this momentary distraction by being tossed to the ground again.  
  
I gotta' help him. How, though? wondered Pete. He looked around and spotted the fire extinguisher. He leapt for the wall and grabbed it, catching the attention of Edward. "Hey, ya' big wolf! Come get me, I dare you!"  
  
The wolf didn't back down and leapt at Pete with his jaws wide open. Pete was prepared and squeezed the handle on the fire extinguisher. Foam sprayed directly into Edward's mouth and eyes, rendering him briefly paralyzed. Pete took the opportunity to smack the wolf on the head with the extinguisher. "That's for hurting my best friend!"  
  
Pete dropped the fire extinguisher, pulled back his fist, and punched Edward enough force that it was answered with a sickening crunch. "That's for being a jerk!" Silently, he added, and for coming even close to Chloe!  
  
Blind and harmless, Edward switched to "natural wolf mode" and lay down on the floor. Pete rushed over to Clark to attend to him. "Clark, man, are you okay?"  
  
Clark groaned, "Yeah, the wound's sealing up. It's taking a while though."  
  
"Maybe the sun heals you too. It should heal faster in the morning."  
  
Clark nodded, and then heard a piercing scream from downstairs. "Lana! Chloe!"  
  
As if on cue, the girls ran into the room, neither of them noticed the trembling body of Edward. Clark wrapped his arms protectively around Lana while Pete did the same for Chloe. He asked her, "Lex! Is he...?"  
  
Lana looked exasperated. "Clark, Lex just grew a lot of hair."  
  
"What?"  
  
Downstairs, Lex ripped off his shirt in a blind rage, revealing that his whole body had been indeed covered in a jungle of red hair. He tossed over the tables and the chairs in search of food. He found the pastries behind the glass on the counter tasty, but not very satisfying. He needed flesh. Where were does skinny little girls he'd been with only a few minutes ago?  
  
Oh yeah, they were upstairs; along with the much larger and more filling boys he'd also spotted.  
  
Lex got up and made his way to the apartment. 


	8. Chapter 7 A Spotlight on the True Lex

Chapter 7  
  
Clark tentatively peeked out the doorway and looked down at the restaurant floor. There was Lex, growling and snarling ferociously. He raised his snout and greedily sniffed the air, searching for the scent of fresh, human meat. His nose faced detected Clark's odor coming from up the stairs. Lex began to climb up the stairs.  
  
"He's coming!" exclaimed Clark. "Everyone..."  
  
He took a moment to inspect the apartment with his x-ray vision. If the clutter was removed, it was quite spacious home. It had a kitchen, a bathroom, but the bedroom (or supposedly the bedroom) was part of the rest of the area; the dining area, he supposed. It resembled a hotel room, really. But what caught Clark's attention was that there was no way out. Oh sure, there were windows, but they led out into either the alley or the street and neither provided a safe landing for anyone other than Clark. The realization sunk into him. They were trapped.  
  
"Clark, how are we going to get out?" asked Lana.  
  
Two thoughts flashed through Clark's mind: reveal his powers to all of them and make a way out, or perform a civilian arrest on Lex for assault. He quickly banished the latter idea from his mind. He turned to face Chloe, Pete, and Lana. "Guys... I have to tell you something."  
  
He turned around one last time to check on how close Lex was and was frightened by the answer; he was practically breathing down his neck. In a blur that he decided he would explain as a surge of adrenaline, Clark pulled Lex into the room and pinned him against the wall. "Run!"  
  
They didn't hesitate.  
  
* * *  
  
"Pete, we can't leave him back there!" protested Chloe once they reached the bottom of the stairs. She spread her arms to prevent them from going any further.  
  
"I'll go back for him, just get outside and go home!" insisted Pete. "Go!"  
  
Lana and Chloe wavered, but they finally nodded and rushed for the front entrance. Pete turned and went back upstairs.  
  
Once they were outside, they scrambled into Lana's SUV. Lana pulled several objects out of her purse – among them were her car keys and a cell phone. She thrust the cell phone into Chloe's hands and instructed her, "Call the police!"  
  
"What do I tell them?" asked Chloe as she dialed 9-1-1.  
  
Lana had already started the car and was pulling away from the Talon when she stopped the car to ponder the question. She went through several possible explanations, but none seemed right to her. "Tell them..."  
  
Before she said another word, Lex's limp body smashed through a window upstairs and landed on the ground exactly where Lana and Chloe would have been if Lana had kept driving. Stunned, Lana didn't make a move until she saw Lex begin to get up. She switched the car into reverse and drove backwards up the street.  
  
"911 emergency, how may I help you?" chirped a voice coming from Lana's cell phone, much to Chloe's surprise.  
  
"Lex Luthor has gone crazy! Get a patrol car or – or something to the Talon!" urged Chloe.  
  
"What's the address?"  
  
"Dammit! I said the Talon! It's the only damn coffee house in Smallville! I don't know the exact address!"  
  
"One moment, please."  
  
* * *  
  
Clark steadily got up and inspected his work. He'd accidentally tossed Lex too hard and threw him out the window. A ridiculous thought crept into Clark's mind: I hope the insurance covers this...  
  
WHAM! Edward slammed a metal pipe into the back of Clark's skull – shoving him out the broken window and down to the street below.  
  
Shocked by Edward's sudden recovery, Pete crept out of the room and ran downstairs. To his great fortune, Edward didn't follow.  
  
Instead, he jumped down to the street level to continue his fight with Clark. Lex had the same idea.  
  
Clark analyzed his predicament. On his right, Edward snarled with fury. On his left, Lex was shaking out of his daze and preparing an attack. If experience has taught me anything, they'll forget this after this is all over.  
  
Simultaneously, the two wolves charged Clark. Clark leaped high into the air out of their reach. The wolves smashed into each other.  
  
He landed neatly on top of the building and watched the bewildered wolves. They had been angered by each other's interference and began to snarl at each other. The growls became physical. Lex smashed his left arm into Edward's skull, who in turn kicked him in the stomach.  
  
Clark decided to check their anatomy with his x-ray vision. It revealed their skeletons – rubber-like bones that flexibly adjusted to each blow that was dealt to them. Strangely, Clark also noticed an aura that covered their bodies like a red coat. It seemed almost...magical.  
  
He sped back into the Talon and found Pete.  
  
"Clark, are you all right?" he asked.  
  
Clark reflexively touched his shoulder wound, which had completely healed. "Yeah, Pete, I'm fine."  
  
He felt along the wound and found a scar. Strange. It itched. "I'm great." 


	9. Chapter 8 Kryptonian Werewolf at Bay

Chapter 8  
  
Pete saw the scar on Clark's shoulder. "Weird scar."  
  
Clark nodded. "It's itchy. Uh...Pete? You better run."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"For some reason, you look delicious, and I mean that in the most literal sense possible." Pete kept on looking at Clark like he was crazy when he noticed his teeth begin to sharpen and resemble fangs. "Pete...run!"  
  
* * *  
  
"So now there are three of them out there?" Jonathon asked when Pete finished his story. They stood in the kitchen, awaiting Martha's next batch of cookies. He couldn't help but stifle a yawn – farm work had taken its toll on him and he was tired though it was only nine in the evening. "How'd you escape?"  
  
Pete shrugged, "I can't really remember. I know that as soon as Clark started growing fangs I got freaked out. I got out of there as fast as I could. What would a super-powered werewolf be like?"  
  
"Werewolf?" asked Martha doubtfully. "That's a bit 'mythical', isn't it?"  
  
"Hello! We got an alien living on this planet with the ability to shoot fire out of his eyes and bench-press tractors! Why rule out the possibility that they're all werewolves?"  
  
"I don't know, I just don't like that term. It seems too out there."  
  
"Lycanthrope," mumbled Jonathon. "They're all suffering from lycanthropy, the condition where someone thinks that they're a wolf."  
  
Pete looked at Jonathon. He never realized how smart he was until this sudden moment of intelligence. Of course, he knew that Jonathon was no idiot, but he didn't think that he had a PH.D. or any other degree that required them to know the technical names of conditions. "All right, so they think they're wolves. How are we going to stop all three of them?"  
  
"We can't," announced Martha. "But we stand a better chance with Clark on our side and now he's running around with fur too."  
  
"He might not even be much help anyway, Martha. This morning he told me that his fight with, what was his name? Edward? Anyway, he hurt Clark. I'm worried that if he does get some sense back, he'll only end up killing himself." Jonathon sighed. "It all seems so hopeless."  
  
"Maybe not. Maybe he still has his weakness," insisted Pete.  
  
"Kryptonite?"  
  
"Yeah." Jonathon hesitated at what Pete was suggesting, but finally nodded. He left the kitchen and went for the meteorites he had stored in the barn. Pete looked at Martha. "But we'll need a Plan B if he's immune to them in 'wolf mode'."  
  
"Sunlight, perhaps?" Martha offered Pete a cookie, which he accepted. Minutes later, Jonathon returned with a lead box in his hand.  
  
"If Clark has any of his old self, any at all, he might come back here."  
  
An hour passed of unbearable silence. Finally, Pete could swear that he heard a rumbling, like giant footsteps. They grew closer until, finally, a hairy figure leaped in through the window.  
  
He was covered in thick, black hair, and he clutched his head in pain with one hand. He used the other to signal Jonathon, Martha, and Pete to stay back. "Please...help me!"  
  
Jonathon clutched the box tightly, still hesitant to expose his son to the meteorites. To both his and Pete's surprise, Martha yanked the box out of his hands and rushed to Clark's writhing side. She cried as she opened the box and said softly, "Clark, honey, I'm so sorry..."  
  
The meteorites shone green like they always did around Clark. He calmed down and began to sit still. Slowly but surely, his hair began to retract back into his skin as well as his fangs and claws.  
  
In moments, the old Clark returned. "Mom?"  
  
Martha burst into tears and almost shut the box when Clark protested. "Mom, no! The rocks – I can't feel them!"  
  
"What?" asked Pete and Jonathon in unison.  
  
"When I was struggling against the urge to bite all of your heads off, I was in pain because of the conflict. But then mom opened the box and the transformation was painless. I can't feel the radiation now, either. I think they're keeping me from turning back into the wolf!"  
  
Jonathon shook his head. "This can't be permanent. We're going to have to find a solution that is, for Edward's and Lex's sake as well."  
  
"Right."  
  
* * *  
  
Yet another hour later, Clark and Pete stood in front of Edward Drake's yard. Clark wore a ridiculously thick rope with a chunk of kryptonite attached to it to prevent him from transforming. He'd opted against a chain because a chain would make too much noise. Meanwhile, Pete looked at Clark incredulously. "What are we doing here?"  
  
"This wolf business started as soon as Edward got here. It may not be his fault, but he's behind this. We have to find out if he has any idea if there's a cure."  
  
Pete noticed a tree on the side of the house that led straight up to an open window. He nudged Clark and pointed at the tree. "This may be just a hunch, but I think Ed's room is up there."  
  
Clark saw the window that Pete was talking about and flashed on his x- ray vision. He saw posters, a desk with a computer on top, a bed, and some magazines inside. He surveyed the rest of the house and found only one person in the whole building, presumably Edward's father. "I think you're right, Pete. Stay down here and let me know if anyone comes."  
  
Clark super-climbed the tree in a heartbeat and leaped into the room through the window. He turned his x-ray vision back on and examined the room a little more closely. There was nothing under the bed, nor any safes or anything like that behind the posters. He looked at the desk and saw a strange box. He felt around to see if he could find the drawer it was inside, but couldn't find it. Momentarily confused, Clark slapped himself when he realized that it was duct-taped to the under side of the desk. He yanked out the box and inspected it.  
  
It was a pack of silver bullets. I can see why he would want to hide this. Where he got them was a mystery until he remembered the article Chloe wrote about him. Edward lived in Ireland for a year before coming to Smallville. Whatever's wrong with him now probably started there. He pocketed the bullets.  
  
Clark looked through the door down the hall, where Edward's father slept peacefully and snored rather loudly. Confident he wouldn't be heard, Clark opened the door and crept into the rest of the house.  
  
Still in x-ray vision, Clark surveyed all the other rooms. Two bathrooms, the bedroom where Ed's parents slept; a kitchen, living room, and dining room downstairs – as well as some sort of office.  
  
The stairs were wooden, so Clark expertly leaped "over" them and down to the carpet bottom. He tiptoed to the office he'd spotted and looked inside. The first paper he noticed sported the name "Lionel Luthor". This confirmed that the room was worth checking out.  
  
Silently, Clark entered the room and began examining the contents. Very few folders contained papers that dealt with Lionel, and the one he found seemed to be a contract for her to work for him. A lot of the papers dealt with notes she'd taken in Ireland. One folder contained a picture of the flower she had been analyzing. In captions underneath read: "Medicinal properties?"  
  
If the flower indeed cured people, perhaps (though it was a long shot) it could heal him and Lex and Edward of their lycanthropic condition. Satisfied, Clark put away everything where it had been and returned upstairs to Edward's room. He poked his head out of the window just in time to see Pete waving his hands frantically. Clark looked at the driveway and saw a jeep pull up. A female drove it. Edward's mom? In the passenger seat was a potted flower that looked exactly like the one in the folder.  
  
Sara stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door with the flowerpot in her hand. She paused for a second before unlocking the door. She had the ridiculous sense that she was being followed. A second later, she shook her head and opened the door.  
  
FWOOSH! Something sped past her and out into the street. Sara was horrified and ran inside to make sure nothing had been stolen. It was after she was sure that everything still seemed to be in place when she noticed that her flower was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
When Clark and Pete returned to the Kent Farm, they were surprised to find Chloe in the kitchen. Jonathon was handing her a mug of coffee while Martha sat down next to her.  
  
"Clark, Pete, where were you?" asked Chloe. "Your dad says you've been missing for hours. And what's that around your neck?"  
  
Clark played it off. "Uh, well, after we escaped from Lex and Edward, we thought we'd snoop around and tail them to see if we could find their weaknesses or something. Uh, and I wore this to..."  
  
"What's that you're holding, son?" asked Jonathon, changing the subject.  
  
Clark held up the flower for all of them to see. "It's a plant from Ireland. I thought since it came from there and Edward's...condition probably started there, they could be linked. I found a paper saying it might have medicinal properties."  
  
"Where exactly did you snoop? I could have helped," said Chloe.  
  
"Ed's house. Look, I don't have time to explain everything. Please, just get home where it's safe," pleaded Clark.  
  
Chloe nodded and walked outside to her car. Pete announced that he would go along with her for her safety and left as well.  
  
"Ok, now we have to figure out how to use that shrub to cure you," noted Jonathon. "Martha?"  
  
"I've...made medicines from plants in the past, yeah, but... Clark, you said this was from Ireland, right?"  
  
Clark nodded.  
  
"And that may be where Edward developed lycanthropy, right? Clark, what if this plant causes it?"  
  
"Mom, there's only one way to find out. Please, extract whatever you need or burn as many leaves as you need to; I don't want to be a werewolf!"  
  
Martha nodded. 


	10. Chapter 9 A Cure?

Chapter 9  
  
"Radiation," proclaimed Doctor Alfred Miller over the phone. He was speaking with Lionel Luthor. "Hamilton must have infused the spores with radiation, essentially bringing them back to life so that they could reproduce – asexually – and thus a new flower was spawned. The Nicodemus, alive, once again."  
  
Lionel rubbed his chin. "Uh-huh. What kind of radiation?"  
  
"A very concentrated form of it; I don't know what the source could possibly be."  
  
Lionel closed his eyes and reflected. He was talking about the meteor rocks, of course, but that wasn't what troubled him. Two years ago, a man named James Beales had been trying to reach in, but Lionel refused to speak with him. He was introduced to the toxin given off from the Nicodemus, and died less than a day later. If he had listened to him, God, he'd be much farther ahead in his research.  
  
Then, just last year, he'd gotten several scientists to explore the properties of the meteor rocks and discovered one of its many uses. He successfully cloned a girl and accelerated her growth significantly. The project was considered a failure; the poor girl couldn't grasp the concepts of right or wrong. Now, here he was, searching for an alternative to the meteor rocks for his cloning project and he ended up back where he started. The damn meteor rocks.  
  
And to think I paid that Drake woman for nothing. Lionel sighed. But all is not lost.  
  
While Sara Drake had gone home with the clone of the mysterious plant from Ireland, Lionel had kept the original and was analyzing tests now. If Wayne Enterprises were trying to develop a revolutionary medicine or hair shampoo, his own scientists wouldn't be far behind in their research.  
  
Indeed, preliminary analysis's showed strange components in the plant. One scientist remarked it as "nothing short of magical", to which Lionel responded, "I pay you to perform science, not magic tricks. Although a magician would be cheaper."  
  
The scientist, of course, snapped out of his daze and got to work.  
  
"Sir? Are you still there?"  
  
Lionel shook his head and ended his reminiscence. "Yes, Dr. Miller, I'm still here. Ah, it appears my projects have...just changed priority. I'll need my biologist back, after all."  
  
Al Miller yawned, "Good. What the hell are you doing up at one in the morning? This phone call couldn't have waited until eight at the very least?"  
  
Lionel hung up.  
  
* * *  
  
"Here," said Martha. She set down a cup of tea on the table in front of Clark and insisted him to drink it.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Well, I can't get a needle and inject it into your system. And Lionel Luthor will turn Smallville into a metropolitan envy of the world before I let you smoke the thing." Martha didn't know how else to call the flower other than "the thing".  
  
Clark gulped down the tea and leaned back. He sighed and decided to rest his eyes. Just a few moments wouldn't hurt. Just...  
  
Clark peeked over the edge of the building and glanced down. It was a really long way down. The cars passing by created strings of light and made Clark dizzy. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to run back into the elevator and forget all about the terrorist and the hostages they held. But...one of the hostages was his mom. He looked up and saw the LuthorCorp building across the street. Behind him sat the familiar Daily Planet globe that revolved completely every minute. The Planet. That would be a nice place to work.  
  
Clark nonchalantly walked over to the globe and tried to pick it up, but instead, his hands went through the globe. It took him a second to realize that it was a hologram. How strange. When he looked out at the city, he was surprised to see that instead of the modern buildings he had seen just a second ago, he saw a jungle of futuristic buildings. In the distance, he could see a train track, but the train didn't touch the track; it glided over it.  
  
Instead of the LuthorCorp building that should have been across the street, he saw twin buildings that resembled a tuning fork. On the bottom, where it should have said "LuthorCorp", it said "LexCorp". And there, on the top floor, was Lex Luthor, albeit much older (still bald, though). He was pointing at Clark and laughing. Why was he laughing?  
  
Clark looked down. He wasn't on the Daily Planet building anymore. He was floating on air. And when he looked back up, the LuthorCorp building sat there again, as if nothing had changed. Clark willed himself to go forward and he flew. He flew into the building, into the room where his mother and Lionel were held hostage. One terrorist, a strong man with a beard, but no scalp hair, held a gun at him. Clark fried the gun out of his hand with his heat vision.  
  
Two other kidnappers, an African-American woman and a Caucasian man, were more hesitant to even try to shoot him. The man said, "Let's get out of here, man! It's Kal!"  
  
The bald bearded man looked at Clark and squinted. "Yeah, it's him! Forget the rich guy!"  
  
The kidnappers left, leaving Clark with his mom and Lionel. He tried to embrace his mother in a hug, but she whimpered and cowered behind Lionel. Lionel threw off his sunglasses and pulled out a gun of his own. "Leave us alone, alien."  
  
"Mom?" pleaded Clark. "Mom, I'm not Kal anymore! I'm sorry! Please! Mom?"  
  
Martha simply held onto Lionel. Anger blinded Clark and he rushed forward to subdue Lionel, who aimed his gun at the safe beside them. In a shower of sparks, it opened, revealing the contents.  
  
Kryptonite.  
  
"Mom! Please, no, it burns! It burns!"  
  
"It burns!" moaned Clark as he woke up. Fortunately, Jonathon was there to yank off the kryptonite and he returned it to the lead case. Martha gently gripped his hand. "What time is it?"  
  
Martha glanced at her watch. "3:30 in the morning. Are you all right? What were you yelling?"  
  
"Nothing. I...had a bad dream, that's all." Clark sighed. "I guess the tea worked."  
  
"But was it the tea's fault or did the kryptonite banish the virus or curse, or whatever the werewolf 'factor' is out of your system?"  
  
Jonathon gave her a look. "Huh?"  
  
Clark was quick to catch on. "Lionel said that some of the elements found in the spaceship are also in the meteor rocks; it's how he made an imperfect copy of the key."  
  
"But the spaceship didn't heal you with its presence – it was 'activated'. Makes me wish we still had it around."  
  
Clark looked down out of guilt. "I'm sorry."  
  
Martha gently clutched Clark's hand. "I guess...I guess the tea worked. Now how are we going to get Lex and that other boy to take the tea?"  
  
Clark got up and walked to the window above the sink. He pondered for a moment before speaking. "Is that the only way you know how to make medicine? Herbal tea?  
  
Martha nodded.  
  
"Then...I'll take the plant, what's left of it, to someone who might help..."  
  
* * *  
  
Lex growled. His hands were tied down to some sort of rock with a chain. Standing in front of him was Edward in "wolf man" form. He was smirking. Damn him.  
  
Edward howled and then closed in for the kill. His mouth bit into Lex's shoulder, causing him to yell very, very loudly. When Edward pulled away, he watched with interest as the area where he'd bitten of flesh from Lex regenerate.  
  
And thus began one of the most physically painful nights Lex would ever experience. 


	11. Chapter 10 LuthorKent Teamup!

Chapter 10  
  
Lionel's eyes fluttered open again for the fifth time since he left the lab in Smallville. His helicopter needed refueling, but he had to be on his way back to Metropolis faster than the chopper could be refueled, so he called the Luthor Mansion and asked a limo to come pick him up. From there, Lionel ordered the driver to drive as fast as he could to Metropolis – well over the speed limit.  
  
To Lionel's surprise, Lex hadn't been the one who answered at Luthor Mansion; it had been a security guard who picked up the phone. The guard explained that Lex never returned from one of his "errands". Lionel Luthor had no idea where his son could be, and frankly, didn't really care as long as he didn't end up on a tabloid. The last time that happened though, the tabloid was merely reporting Lex's presumed death. A small part of Lionel wished him dead... but a large, honest part was glad he wasn't. That was a terrible way to die.  
  
He groaned. As luxurious and spacey as the limo was, it wasn't for sleeping in. Lionel couldn't fall asleep.  
  
Suddenly, the limo violently screeched to a halt, slamming Lionel across the car. He brushed his hair out of his face and opened the window separating himself from the driver. "What the hell happened?"  
  
The driver stuttered while pointing out the window. "T-that kid!"  
  
It was Clark on the road.  
  
* * *  
  
Clark swallowed, not sure his plan would work. Would Lionel refuse to help his own son?  
  
Lionel got out of the limousine and walked up to Clark, first noticing the plant he held in his hands. Lionel glanced down at his watch. "A bit past your curfew, isn't it Mr. Kent?"  
  
"Mr. Luthor, I..." began Clark, not sure how to continue.  
  
"I have to get to Metropolis within the next few hours, so if you will excuse me..." Lionel turned his back to Clark.  
  
"Wait, Mr. Luthor!"  
  
Lionel was reluctant, but faced Clark. "Yes?"  
  
"It's your son, Lex... He...um, he's gotten sick. Please, let me show him to you. It's...really urgent."  
  
"Mr. Kent. I am the CEO of a very large corporation. I don't have time to dabble around in every little situation... But I've come to respect you as a man of your word, Clark. And you are talking about my son. Get in the limo and tell the driver where to."  
  
Clark wasn't sure if he should smile.  
  
* * *  
  
An hour later, they arrived at the Talon, which was surrounded by a dozen police cars. Lionel promptly asked Sheriff Adams what was going on.  
  
"Well, Mr. Luthor, we got a call a few hours ago from a Ms. Sullivan, a friend of Clark Kent, here –"  
  
"Yes, I know who she is."  
  
"Oh, well, she called in and reported that your son, Lex, 'had gone crazy'. We arrive here, skeptical, but alert and found this once wonderful establishment mauled. Would you know anything about what happened here, Mr. Kent?"  
  
Clark shrugged, but replied, "Um, well yeah...actually."  
  
Clark didn't elaborate, so Sheriff Adams spoke up. "Care to tell me what you saw, Mr. Kent? Or did a passing truck drop a tractor, preventing you from seeing anything?"  
  
"Um... I came with a few friends, and this guy... Edward ... attacked us, so I fought him off and when I knocked him out, the next thing I know, I'm turning around and Lex is trying to kill me too."  
  
"Edward? Edward Drake? I knew from the moment he moved in he was no good. Now, why did he attack y'all? And what's his connection to Lex Luthor?"  
  
Lionel was impatient. "Yes, tell us, Clark."  
  
Clark stuttered. "W-well, I, um, don't really know. I mean, I do, but... you wouldn't believe me."  
  
"Try me," challenged Sheriff Adams.  
  
"Edward complained that he was feeling sick so he ran up to the apartment upstairs and we heard growls. I went upstairs and I found him covered in fur."  
  
Sheriff Adams chuckled. "Fur? Lex too?"  
  
"Yeah. I knocked out Edward and then Lex attacked me too, fur and all. Anyway, they both got away."  
  
Sheriff thought she would slap Clark Kent. Instead, she kept a straight face and looked dead at Clark. "Mr. Kent, you've made some strange stuff up in the past, but this one most definitely takes the cake. Still, most of the times you turn out right. You better hope like hell this is one of those times, Kent."  
  
She brushed past the two men, leaving them alone with their thoughts. Lionel looked doubtfully at Clark. "Fur? Now I know your joking. Right, Clark?"  
  
Clark shook his head.  
  
"So where is Lex?"  
  
Clark shrugged. Just then, the limo driver stepped out and informed Lionel, "Sir, you've just gotten a call. There seems to be a disturbance in the Kawatchi Caves. They say it requires your attention."  
  
Lionel looked back at Clark. "Need to do a follow-up on that term paper you wrote on the caves last year, Clark? Because now would be a fine opportunity."  
  
Clark didn't trust Lionel with the caves. He nodded and got into the limo.  
  
* * *  
  
The limo arrived at the caves less than ten minutes later. Clark got out before Lionel and walked up to the security gate. The sight that greeted him was not a welcome one. The guard was dead, with neck horribly mauled and his face disfigured. His bones were crushed and he was missing a leg, which lay a few yards away. Lionel walked up beside him and cringed at the sight.  
  
"They were here," murmured Clark.  
  
"Do you think they're still in the caves?" asked Lionel.  
  
Clark looked at the ground shielding the caves and flashed on his x- ray vision. He scanned the entire area and finally saw two figures cloaked in a red mist – like the aura he'd seen earlier – at the far end of the cave. He looked up at Lionel and nodded. "I'm going down there first to make sure it's safe."  
  
Lionel chuckled. He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a shiny 9 millimeter. "Well, if you're going to do that, I suggest you take something to protect yourself with."  
  
Clark gulped.  
  
"No? Then I guess I'll come along as well."  
  
Clark was reluctant, but agreed. Together, they ventured deep down into the cave.  
  
* * *  
  
Ow. Edward slashed Lex's face. Ow. Edward bit off a piece of Lex's flesh. Ow. For extra torture, Edward pulled back and smashed his fist into Lex's stomach. Ow, ow, OW!  
  
Just then, Edward heard a familiar voice boom from nearby. "Lex! Lex, are you down here?"  
  
Edward looked at Lex and thought quickly. Waiting for his flesh to regenerate was about as fun as eating himself. He'd look for better prey. The people approaching would not make good prey. They had the same advantage of surprise as he did, since the caves were so small and un- maneuverable. Edward made his escape.  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel looked at the wall he stood by. It was the cave painting with the once open keyhole. It was sealed up, now, but a few months ago, it had been opened. What had happened? Lionel considered asking Clark; the keyhole had sealed up the same day Clark's farm mysteriously exploded. Now wasn't the time, however. There'd be time for questions later.  
  
The key had been an octagonal-shaped silver disk, which was stolen from him early last year, while he'd been held hostage in his own office building. Using meteor rocks, he'd made a replica – which was also stolen. This only encouraged Lionel even more to discover the secret to how it and the hole in the wall were connected. Nothing would stop him.  
  
* * *  
  
Clark shuffled his feet, uncomfortable. He felt a strange object on the ground and looked down. Afraid to show Lionel his discovery, he used his x-ray vision to look through his foot and see what it was.  
  
It was the key. 


	12. Chapter 11 Massacre Trap

Chapter 11  
  
Edward snuck out of the caves and roamed down the road, hungry. These days, he was always hungry and nothing short of a potential massacre could satisfy him. He broke into his super-run.  
  
Soon, he arrived in Town Square, just down the street from the Talon. Dozens of police cars surrounded it, looking for clues. There were lots of people. To Edward, people meant food – food that he needed now.  
  
Edward snuck up close, ready for his first kill. In a heartbeat, one policeman was down. He chewed a little of his ear, made sure he was dead, and then dragged him into a spot where he could stay unseen. He'd finish him later.  
  
"Ben?" called out one of the policeman. Damn, someone noticed his death. No matter. Edward would just have to kill him too. "Ben?"  
  
One slash and he was dead. Unfortunately, his action exposed him, and now all the officers had their guns trained on him.  
  
Edward backed off, but crouched down low, waiting for the police to make their move. The odds impressed him; he smirked the best way a wolf could.  
  
* * *  
  
Clark looked at the key, wondering how he could pick it up without letting Lionel see him. He was about to just pick it up with his superspeed when they heard a low howl from down the tunnel that led into a different section of the caves. They exchanged looks before deciding to investigate.  
  
Squeezing through, Lionel made way to the new part of the caves, where they found a figure covered in curly red fur tied to a sizable rock. His features were both humanoid and canine-like at the same time. Lionel could only murmur, "Lex?"  
  
The figure muttered the best he could with his snout, "Dad?"  
  
Suddenly, the bonds tying him down to the rock burst into flame, freeing Lex. Lionel whirled around to spot Clark, who effectively pretended that he had no idea what had just happened.  
  
Clark's eyes widened. "Mr. Luthor! Get down!"  
  
Lex leapt at Lionel, who crouched down at the last possible second. Clark zipped in between them and tossed him backwards. Lionel got up, none the wiser. "He just jumped at me!"  
  
"He's not exactly his usual self, Lionel," explained Clark unnecessarily.  
  
"Get back," ordered Lionel.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Get back!!" Lionel whipped out his nine-millimeter and fired two clean shots at Lex's chest, causing him to stumble backwards. "Go for the exit!"  
  
Clark hesitated at the sight of seeing Lex go down from the two shots, but changed his mind and bolted for the exit when he saw him get up. He went through the exit and ran to the spot where he found the key. He picked it up and pocketed it, all the while having to listen to more gunshots coming from the cave he left. A moment later, Lionel came out of the tunnel, gun still in hand.  
  
"The bullets have no effect!" noted Lionel.  
  
Clark instinctively felt for his coat pocket, where he had hid the silver bullets he found from Edward's room. Perhaps they had an effect... but he didn't want to use Lex as a test dummy. He kept quiet.  
  
Lionel and Clark ran for the exit, welcomed by the sight of the moonlight. They scurried for the limo and got inside. The limo driver showed no emotion. "Where shall it be, sir?"  
  
"Anywhere but here!"  
  
As the limo pulled away, Clark looked back at the caves. Lex leaped out of the entrance to the caves and landed almost a meter behind the limo, causing a loud thump. Lionel heard this and whirled around to look out the back window. He pulled out the 9mm and took aim, firing the last bullet in the clip. The bullet shattered the glass and kept traveling, hitting Lex right in the chest. The slug managed to daze him, thus slowing him down too much to keep up with the limo.  
  
Clark looked at Lionel, still shocked that he was shooting at his own son. But he couldn't help but comment, "Nice shot."  
  
* * *  
  
They were halfway to the town when Lionel noticed Clark's plant. "That plant. Where did you get it from?"  
  
Clark stuttered, "I... snuck into Edward's house, to find clues. I found this too."  
  
Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of silver bullets he found underneath Edward's desk. He reluctantly handed them to Lionel, who inspected the package.  
  
"Silver? Why would a teenager carry around silver ammunition?"  
  
"I don't know. That's why I took it," explained Clark. He peered out the window. "Oh God..."  
  
Lionel followed his gaze, doing the best he could from a side window. They were approaching the Talon, where dozens of limp bodies lied around and cars were overturned.  
  
* * *  
  
Clark hurried out of the limo and ran to the nearest police officer. He was dead. He went over to check on the next. Dead.  
  
There weren't as many officers as there were earlier, but they were all dead. Sheriff Adams was nowhere in sight. Lionel got out of the limo and inspected the scene as well. Total, there were about ten lifeless people.  
  
"What happened here?" he wondered aloud.  
  
A chill shook down his spine. Low howls erupted from alleys and corners everywhere. It felt like they were surrounded.  
  
Two figures stepped out from behind an alley next to the Talon. Like Edward and Lex, they were covered in fur. Two more appeared from out of the hardware shop. Soon, the other half of the police force that hadn't been killed was in full view and under the curse of the werewolf.  
  
"Lionel?" whispered Clark.  
  
"Yeah, Clark?"  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
Clark fired two blasts of heat vision at the nearest werewolf, then knocked another one off the ground by ramming him at super-speed. He did this again and again until all the werewolves were gazed, then went to attend Lionel.  
  
"What happened?" asked Lionel as he opened his eyes and saw the dazed wolves.  
  
"I picked up a flash bang grenade from one of the police officers," lied Clark. "Let's get out of here!"  
  
But the limo driver had panicked and sped away without them. Lionel looked in defeat as he watched the taillights disappear from view. "He's fired."  
  
The wolves shook off their daze and approached Clark and Lionel. 


	13. Chapter 12 Cornered

Chapter 12  
  
"Before we die, Clark, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" asked Lionel.  
  
"Only that you should appreciate your son more," replied Clark.  
  
"That's it? No dark family secret you want to let me in on?"  
  
"No."  
  
Lionel reached into his coat pocket and felt a package. The silver bullets that Clark had given to him!  
  
"Well, Clark. You may have just saved us again. Toss another grenade and buy me some time," whispered Lionel to Clark.  
  
Clark nodded and carefully leaned down over a police officer. There weren't any flash bang grenades on the body, so he removed the belt, made sure Lionel was preoccupied with whatever he was doing, and threw it at the wolves in front of him. He fired a blast of concentrated heat vision at the belt, causing all of the contents to explode. Lionel whirled around to see what had happened.  
  
"Uh... must have been a real grenade," lied Clark, again. Lionel shook his head and got up, revealing that he still had his handgun. He cocked it and took aim at the nearest wolf.  
  
He fired.  
  
And then everything slowed to a near stop. Clark watched the bullet move quickly through the air heading for its target. He was tempted to melt it with his heat vision, but instead watched helplessly as it continued to travel through the air. Without realizing it, he switched to x-ray vision just as the bullet smashed into the wolf's chest.  
  
The red aura he'd seen before crystallized in a brilliant display, then turned silver before finally disappearing. He snapped out of x-ray vision and watched as the wolf toppled to the ground. He moaned in pain, clawing at empty air. His hair, instead of retracting, grew out to its full length and fell off the body, leaving only a dead human.  
  
All the while, Lionel had his gun aimed at the wolf man, never moving until he saw him motionless. He lowered the weapon and watched the werewolves affectionately caress the human's dead body. Then one snapped its jaws on his head.  
  
The wolves decided to focus their attention on eating the dead body and ignored Clark and Lionel, allowing them to slip away into the night.  
  
* * *  
  
"Smallville's Finest turned into the Smallville's hungriest," pointed out Lionel as he and Clark left the town. "Pathetic."  
  
"Edward must have gotten to them," murmured Clark.  
  
"The boy's going to be facing some serious charges if this ever ends," snapped Lionel. "And he'll have me to answer to. My own son – succumbed to this curse! And you know what, Clark? I'm helpless. I can't stand that."  
  
Clark was shocked. He could swear that what he was listening to was Lionel Luthor (THE Lionel Luthor) breaking down beside him. No longer was he heartless man of infinite power. He was a very, very scared man with his life hanging on a thread and a son out of his control. Clark felt a pang of guilt.  
  
Jonathon Kent hadn't had much control when Clark had stormed off to Metropolis. And like Lex, he was under a powerful influence. Unlike Lex, Clark had consciously made the decision to put on the red kryptonite ring, knowing that his actions would be unpredictable – knowing that he would only end up hurting the ones he loved. Lex didn't want to become a werewolf. Lex didn't want to hurt anyone.  
  
Clark would break Lex's spell if it were the last thing he did.  
  
"Clark? You seem... out of it," observed Lionel.  
  
"I'm just thinking. Don't you want to get your son back?"  
  
"I want my son to get better. No matter what it takes."  
  
* * *  
  
They arrived at the Luthor Mansion just as the sun rose. Lionel thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight, and he'd come to appreciate each dawn much more.  
  
A familiar voice came from behind them. "Y'know, I thought I went to the Talon for some coffee last night, but judging from my shredded clothes, where I woke up, and my headache, not to mention I have no idea what happened since, I have a feeling I winded up at the Wild Coyote for some beers. Can either of you tell me if that's true?"  
  
Lionel looked at him in shock. "Lex?"  
  
"None other," he smiled. His smile broke after a second and he collapsed to his knees, beginning to softly sob. "Oh God, what have I done?"  
  
Lionel shook his head. "What have you become?"  
  
* * *  
  
In Smallville, a dozen police officers vomited at the sight at so many of their friends and coworkers dead. In less than an hour, people would flood the town to perform their early morning errands and this would be what they would see.  
  
Sheriff Adams was the one most upset by realizing what she had done. She couldn't remember what had happened, when she had eaten these people, or why she returned to her old self. She could only remember those last few seconds when she held up her hands after being bit in the leg by that wolf and seeing claws growing out of her fingers.  
  
Deputy Speer walked up to her, a look of despair on his face. "What happened, Sheriff? What happened?"  
  
"We had a bad night, Speer. We had a very bad night."  
  
Speer wiped his eyes and looked at his feet.  
  
"Oh, one more thing, Speer. Remind me to go easier on the Kent boy. He's smarter under all that flannel than I give him credit for." 


	14. Chapter 13 A Last Look at Smallville

Chapter 13  
  
Lex slept soundly in his bed, while Lionel and Clark looked on, exhausted from the events of last night. For perhaps the thousandth time, Lionel rubbed his temples, sighed, and shook his head. "What am I going to do...?"  
  
Clark spoke softly. "The plant I had with me... It can cure him."  
  
Lionel's eyes locked onto Clark. "The plant?"  
  
He nodded. "It's been tested. Make a tea or a juice from the leaves and it banishes the curse out of his system. I... tried it."  
  
"You mean to tell me that you became into that thing?"  
  
Clark nodded.  
  
"How can I trust you?"  
  
"I saved your life several times, last night, Mr. Luthor. And not once did I turn into the wolf. The plant works, whether you believe that or not," defended Clark.  
  
Lionel chuckled, "Well, that's fine, but as you are well aware of, I do not possess the plant anymore. It's still in the limo that ditched us. It's funny how every time I get my hands on something of value, other than money, it slips away from me – either stolen or lost forever. Do you have that kind of luck, Clark?"  
  
Clark shrugged. "I can't say I particularly do."  
  
"No, no, of course not." Lionel yawned. "All my limos have tracking devices, but the GPS system is all the way in Metropolis. We could find it faster on foot that flying all the way back to the city."  
  
Clark thought the idea over for a second before coming up with an excuse for leaving. "My parents are probably worried. I better go home and let them know I'm okay."  
  
"Yes, you do that. Give my regards to your parents."  
  
Clark left, prompting Lionel to pick up the phone. He dialed a number and waited two rings before someone on the other end answered. "This is Lionel. I need the National Guard to come to Smallville, Kansas. There's been a massacre and the citizens could use comfort."  
  
* * *  
  
It would take Clark forever to search every square inch of woods and fields in Smallville to find the limo. He needed a faster way or a clue as to where the limo might have gone.  
  
He guessed that the driver would want to wait until the situation cooled down, or to see if Lionel had died. Then he might make up a story where he actually played the hero. He'd want something to drown his conscience, too. Clark guessed immediately that limo driver had gone to the Wild Coyote, a bar on the edge of town.  
  
Sure enough, when he arrived there, he saw a black stretched car parked neatly outside, eyeballed by a couple of bikers. Clark brushed past them and tried to get to the car, but one of them grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.  
  
"Yew was with that guy, lass' week. That no good sonuva bitch reporter guy. What was his name? Black?" asked the thug, drunk. He was, of course, talking about Perry White. Clark could only imagine what Perry had done to offend this guy, but he decided not to take chances. He shrugged the thug's hand off of his shoulder and gently knocked him out. The other thug tried to attack Clark, but he shoved him (lightly) into the sidewalk.  
  
"I'm not in a good mood right now, boys," warned Clark. He x-rayed the car and found the plant still nestled in the corner of the seat where he'd been sitting. He found the alarm system and burned it with his heat vision, rendering it useless.  
  
He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and punched through the window. No alarm went off, so he picked up the plant and sped away.  
  
When the limo driver came back outside, he cursed at the damage and furiously went back inside to call a taxi to take him to Grandville, which was hopefully far away enough to escape Lionel's wrath, but he doubted it.  
  
* * *  
  
Clark dropped off the plant at the Luthor Mansion, along with a note explaining where the limo was and suggestions for how to "take" the plant.  
  
After that, Clark sped home, confronted by his very worried parents in the kitchen.  
  
"Clark, where were you?" asked Martha.  
  
"Everywhere. It's a long story," explained Clark.  
  
"Well, we want to hear it," demanded Jonathon. The doorbell interrupted him. He sighed and went to the door to see who it was.  
  
It was the paperboy, eager to give them the paper.  
  
"Morning, Jimmy," greeted Jonathon. "Sun's already up, why's the paper so late?"  
  
"They stopped the presses for the front page news," told Jimmy. "Check it out!"  
  
Jonathon quickly read the headline. "HALF OF POLICE FORCE SLAUGHTERED!" A headline in smaller print read: "WORK OF THE DEVIL?"  
  
"Oh my God... Thanks, Jimmy." Jonathon closed the door and slammed the paper on the table for Clark and Martha to read.  
  
"That's horrible!" cried Martha. "Clark, did you know about this?"  
  
Clark nodded. "Yeah... it's one of the worst things I've ever seen. I couldn't really... just bring it up out of the blue."  
  
"Were you there?" asked Jonathon.  
  
"No."  
  
"Do you know who did this?"  
  
"My best guess is Edward. When I got there, the other half were werewolves."  
  
"Well, you're going to have to tell them about the plant you got from Edward's house. Who'd you take it to, anyway?" asked Jonathon.  
  
Clark looked at the floor, afraid to look at his father. "Lionel."  
  
"Lionel Luthor?! Son, you've got to be kidding me! That's the last person on Earth you want to be dealing with! You would know that almost as well as I would!" argued Jonathon.  
  
"Lex is his son and he's one of them. I thought Lionel would help me," explained Clark. "I didn't have many other choices, dad. Besides... he unintentionally helped me find this."  
  
Clark placed the key on the table.  
  
"Where'd you find this?" asked Martha.  
  
"In the caves. We know that if we put it into the spaceship – before I destroyed it – it would heal anyone in the area. We also know that if we put into the hole in the caves, it 'downloads' the Kryptonian language into the person that puts the key in the hole. The hole's sealed up, and you guys say it's been that way since I left," Clark flinched before continuing. "What's it doing down there now?"  
  
Jonathon took it from the table and began to leave to go put it away.  
  
"Dad? Something you want to tell us?"  
  
"It's how I talked to your biological father," he admitted.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"That's all there is to it, son!"  
  
"Dad!" Clark called after him, but Jonathon was already on his way to the barn.  
  
Martha assured Clark. "It'll... it'll be alright."  
  
Clark shook his head. "No it's not. And I still have to talk to the police about this. I'll be back."  
  
Clark disappeared.  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel smiled as the first helicopter landed. A middle-aged woman about half a foot shorter than him with brunette hair and brown eyes stepped out to greet him – but it wasn't the friendly sort of greeting.  
  
"You're not going to make calling the National Guard into farm towns a habit, are you Mr. Luthor?" she asked him.  
  
"No, I should hope not," he smiled.  
  
"It scares me how much power you have, Luthor. You're actually able to call us in and you're on a first-name basis with the President. If we gave you a seat in Congress, there'd be no stopping you."  
  
"For now, Sergeant Willows, I'm quite happy with my businessman position."  
  
Sgt. Willows shook her head and walked with him away from the landing zone. "So what seems to be the problem?"  
  
"As I explained before, half of the police force is dead and the other half is too traumatized to effectively carry out their jobs."  
  
Willows chuckled, "This is a farm town, Luthor. The most they have to worry about is pick-pockets and high school pranks."  
  
Lionel stopped and looked at her dead in the eye. "You clearly have not been well enough briefed on Smallville. October 1989 – the Meteor Shower."  
  
"I'm aware of that event, Lionel, but even then, they didn't call in the National Guard; they brought in the state troops."  
  
"A sad mistake. Since then, a plethora of strange events have sprung up. Two years ago, someone masqueraded as my son robbed the bank. I might also add that that incident was not the first nor the last time the bank was robbed. That same year, my local fertilizer plant was held hostage –"  
  
"I hear that was your fault," interrupted Willows.  
  
Lionel grunted and continued, "I could go on. Bug boys, psychotic killers, criminals – everything – have darkened Smallville's soul. You guys should have been here long ago."  
  
"You speak quite passionately, Lionel, and we're not even talking about Metropolis. Calm down, we're here already. But why do I think you have an ulterior motive for calling us in?"  
  
"Not what I would call an 'ulterior motive', Sgt., but rather a convenience. If possible, I'd like to arrange an immediate visit to Ireland..."  
  
* * *  
  
Clark arrived at the town square just in time to see Lionel getting onboard a helicopter. Acting on impulse, Clark ran underneath the helicopter and climbed onto the bottom.  
  
He had no idea where it was going.  
  
He didn't even have any idea why he did it.  
  
But pretty soon, they were too high up for Clark to even have thought about letting go.  
  
* * *  
Meanwhile, in the woods, a mysterious figure cowers on the ground, twitching uncontrollably. He is sad because he does not have a home or at least a place to stay. He is sad because he killed over a dozen men just satisfy his own hunger. He is sad... because he hasn't changed back into a human.  
  
He's Edward. 


	15. Interlude

Lionel Luthor had met Sgt. Megan Willows way back in 1994, the year of his company's stock was at its highest that decade. Back then, Willows was just a lowly police officer helping direct traffic in the center of Metropolis.  
  
One day, Lionel was walking out of a bank when a street thug jumped in his way from out of nowhere to and threatened him with a switchblade. His guards were not in sight and Officers Willows was writing a parking ticket over a block away.  
  
"Not so high and might now, eh, Luthor?" mocked the thug.  
  
Except for the switchblade, the thug didn't really frighten Lionel. He was a thin, short, African-American possibly in his late twenties.  
  
"This is so clichéd," mumbled Lionel.  
  
"Shut up!" barked the thug, angrily. "I took care of your guards; I can take care of you!"  
  
"You killed them?"  
  
"No – those fools were just poor saps taking orders from the wrong guy."  
  
"But you will kill me?"  
  
The thug hesitated, "I – yeah, I'll kill you!"  
  
Lionel inspected his scenario. In front of him was his limo, and he could see just enough through the glass to find the limo driver unconscious. The bank was relatively empty; no one else was coming outside and no one inside could see them, since they were at the bottom of the stairs. The streets were empty and across the street people were going out of their way to pretend they didn't see what was going on. The man had attacked him at his weakest.  
  
Then, Lionel peered to his left. Willows was trying to silently approach them, but she was still half a block away. He'd have to keep talking.  
  
"When were you fired?" asked Lionel.  
  
"What?"  
  
"This is all too well orchestrated. No mere street hoodlum could have possibly have come up with this. You know too much about the way I work – how I hate waiting in lines and prefer the streets when there are less people. In short, I hate crowds. You even managed to knock out every single one of my guards. You clearly must have worked for me at one point or another," explained Lionel calmly.  
  
"Heh, why don't you just believe I got lucky?"  
  
"Evidence points to the fact that... you're about to get your ass kicked."  
  
"I wouldn't bet on –"  
  
Officer Willows attacked the thug with a sleep hold and knocked him out. His unconscious body slipped to the ground.  
  
"Thank you," thanked Lionel.  
  
"Just doing my job, sir," replied Officer Willows.  
  
He chuckled. "Most people wouldn't have, at least not in this city."  
  
"Well... I try to set an example. I'll just arrest this man and you can be on your way. I mean, after you give me a statement, of course."  
  
Lionel smiled. "Of course."  
  
Willows had denied a reward, but soon she found herself rising rapidly among police force ranks. Not long after that, mid-1996, she was convinced by a close friend to resume her army training that she'd began a while ago. She didn't rise very far before she got transferred into the National Guard and ascended to her current rank. Lionel's work was fast, and she was now catching on as to why.  
  
He wanted influence in the National Guard. And in less than a decade, he got it. 


	16. Chapter 14 Role Call

Chapter 14  
  
Martha heard a knock on her door in the afternoon. She opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Pete Ross. "Hi, Pete!"  
  
"Hey, Mrs. Kent. Is Clark here? He wasn't at school today, so I kind of got worried."  
  
"What? I haven't seen him this morning!"  
  
"Well, after what happened last night... Um... he came back home?"  
  
Martha explained to him about what happened. He cringed when he heard that Clark had gone to see Lionel about helping him defeat the werewolves, but listened with patience to the rest of the story.  
  
"I knew I should have come over after I heard about the massacre. So you guys have no idea where Clark can be?"  
  
"No, none."  
  
* * *  
  
The helicopter finally arrived in Ireland, hours later. Clark, exhausted from having to stay awake so he wouldn't let go of the chopper, let go of the chopper and plummeted into the woods beneath him.  
  
Inside, the pilot noticed something falling into the trees, but decided not to call attention to it.  
  
Clark honestly thought for a moment that he would die. He felt the pounding of every tree limb hitting him and shattering against his alien body. Then he hit the ground, and for a moment, he passed out.  
  
When he awoke, he simply stared into the empty sky, unable to remember what he was doing in this strange environment. Slowly, but surely, his memory returned, though it gave him a headache.  
  
It was already dark, considering that it had been a long flight and Ireland was a number of hours ahead. He got up and brushed himself off.  
  
He checked his pockets, only to find his cell phone and a couple of dollars. He knew he'd have to call his parents, but hesitated when he thought of all the money he'd spend on the long-distance call. Oh well. With great powers come great expenses.  
  
Miles away, in Kansas, Martha Kent's phone rang. She picked it up anxiously. "Hello?"  
  
"Mom? Mom, it's me," said Clark.  
  
"Clark, where are you?"  
  
"I think... I don't know. I saw Lionel getting on a helicopter and I just got on the bottom, for some reason. I..."  
  
"Clark, think. Where are you?"  
  
Clark looked around. He was in a forest. It was cold. In the sky, he could see a few stars he recognized, meaning he was still in the northern hemisphere. Wait a minute...  
  
"Mom, it's dark here. The moon's already up."  
  
"It's just sunset over here. Clark, you must be halfway across the world!"  
  
"Actually... I'm pretty sure where I am now. I think I'm in Ireland. Lionel must be looking for more of the plants I found," realized Clark.  
  
Suddenly, from behind a nearby tree came a low, canine growl. Clark was startled, and showed it in his voice, "Mom? I'm going to have to call you back."  
  
He turned off his cell phone and pocketed it, then turned to face the beast. It was large and bulky, with fangs and claws of unbelievable size, and the coldest red eyes that nature could create. Clark's x-ray vision confirmed it. He was facing a werewolf.  
  
But not just one – a whole pack of them.  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel led the troops into a field full of the purple flowers he'd tried to clone earlier. Sgt. Willows tapped him on the shoulder. "I believe I'm in charge of these men, Lionel. Mind if I decide which way we go?"  
  
"We're already here," explained Lionel.  
  
A nearby guard interrupted them. "Oy! This area's restricted! What do you think yer' doin' here?"  
  
"I'm from the States and I came for this beautiful miracle plant that you're growing out here," told Lionel. "They could save lives."  
  
"This is Wayne property. If you want to take anything off his land, you take it up with him," warned the guard.  
  
"Ah, and where can I find this Mr. Wayne?"  
  
"Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City – any major city where you're from. He's a busy person. Just who do you think you are?"  
  
Lionel smiled, "My name is Lionel Luthor, CEO and chief stockholder of LuthorCorp, as well as president of the board. These here are Sergeant Megan Willow's troops from the National Guard. I also have friends with Interpol and a little in the CIA."  
  
The guard was a little shocked, but kept his posture. "Uh-huh. Well, you're not Mr. Wayne and that's who I take orders from. This isn't even America, so why don't you yanks get your arses back into you little chopper and head on back over the pool?"  
  
"We'll need to refuel first," said Lionel. "Perhaps we can meet with whoever Mr. Wayne left in charge of this installation?"  
  
"Hang on. Let me call the Head of Security."  
  
Willows whispered in Lionel's ear. "Should we tell him we're not even legally supposed to be in this country?"  
  
Lionel shook his head. "The less he knows, the happier he'll be."  
  
"Then I think he must be ready to commit suicide because you told him an awful lot."  
  
Lionel kept quiet. 


	17. Chapter 15 A Hunt for Answers

Chapter 15  
  
Clark quickly analyzed the situation in his head. He'd been doing that a lot, lately. There were about five wolves hidden in the trees in front of him, and he'd heard about three distinctly different growls coming from behind them. He was right in the middle of a giant forest in a foreign country with no weapons or any means of getting help other than his cell phone, which at the moment, did not seem like the smartest thing to take out and use.  
  
"Easy there, fella's. Easy now," murmured Clark to the wolves.  
  
Then, Clark realized, at the worst possible moment, that if Lionel had come to Ireland, he'd probably be here looking for more miracle plants. If he was looking for more, then that must have meant that there was not enough to cure all of those who'd been cursed back in Smallville. Meaning that there were still werewolves rampant, and he wasn't there to protect the innocents.  
  
Clark swore aloud.  
  
Knowing he'd need a distraction of some sort, Clark fired a blast of heat vision at a nearby tree, causing it to explode. Taken advantage of the surprise, Clark dashed away from the wolves and ran north. At least, he hoped it was north.  
  
He'd gone about a mile when two new wolves cut him off. He was prepared to fight his way through when two gunshots went off, striking both wolves in the head. They swayed, and then collapsed to the ground, dead.  
  
Clark looked up to see who had shot them. It was a man, quite beefy with a blond moustache and thinning hair. He yelled at Clark, "If you want to live, it'd be smart to come with me."  
  
Taking his advice, Clark followed the man through a small path through even more trees. At the end of the path were a wide clearing and a jeep. They got inside and sped away, leaving the wolves far behind.  
  
* * *  
  
"They could catch us, but they often choose not to waste their energy," explained the man. "M'name's Ellem, by the way. You got a name?"  
  
"Uh, Clark Kent, sir," introduced Clark.  
  
"Huh. I've never met a Clark before. I've never met a Kent before, either. What are you, some sort of farm boy running around in farm boots and flannel?"  
  
"Uh... Yes, sir."  
  
"Ellem. 'Sir' is too formal. So you are a farm boy, eh? I don't see a lot of them here, or at least not in this part of the country." Ellem drove the jeep through a bog, and miraculously made it through without sinking. Ellem noted Clark's surprise. "When you drive on terrain like this, you pick up shortcuts, like elevated land."  
  
They reached the end of the forest and found a main road. The silence finally ended when Clark asked Ellem where they were going.  
  
"A town not far from here. I own a bar, but there's a suitable apartment upstairs where you can stay. Least until you tell me what you were doing out in the woods."  
  
"I'm looking for a plant that can cure my friends."  
  
Ellem chuckled. "Oh. Well you're not going to find it in the forest. Nah, that only place left where it grows is on private property, owned by Wayne Industries, or WayneCorp, or one of those. I forgot."  
  
"You know where I can find the plant?" asked Clark, surprised.  
  
"Well, yeah. Didn't I just tell you I did? But the scientists and Wayne Foundation are all over them, thinking they can find a universal medicine that can cure anything."  
  
"Can it?"  
  
"Nope. All it can do is treat the local werewolf bite. That is what's wrong with your friends, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hah. I knew it. Yeah, I tried to tell Wayne Enterprises that they were on a wild goose chase, but those guys just don't listen. I'm sure they'll spare you a plant. First they'll put you on a waiting list, for like, ten years. Then, of course, they'll expect a million dollars for one seedling, which you have to grow with your own fertilizer, that can be conveniently bought at the gift shop," rambled Ellem. "And of course by then, it'll be too late for your friend. It probably already is."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Okay, kid, let me just warn you: the rules for this werewolf gig aren't exactly fair. You think you have enough information to write a documentary on the wolves and then suddenly, one little fact turns out false. And in turn, it contradicts all the other stuff. There are only a couple of facts etched in stone."  
  
Clark sighed, "And they are?"  
  
"Silver will take down a wolf. A bite is enough to give you the curse. And, the werewolves possess incredible speed and strength, but over the years, some nuts swear they'll see a wolf blowing down houses. Or shooting fire out of their eyes."  
  
Clark gulped. "They sound powerful."  
  
"Yeah. Anyhow, it used to be that the wolves only came out during the full moon. Now, that's only partly true. Eh, hang on."  
  
The jeep arrived at an armored gate guarded by a lone guard who had a shotgun laid across his lap. The guard saw the jeep, got up, and leaned out the window of his sentry box. "That you, Ellem?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me, Max. Mind letting me in?"  
  
"Who's the passenger?"  
  
"A sheep, like the rest of us."  
  
"Alright." He returned to his seat and pressed a button on his control panel. The gate opened, allowing the jeep to drive in.  
  
"What did you mean when you called me a sheep?" asked Clark.  
  
"It means you're human, and not a wolf. Of course, sometimes we get wolves in sheep's clothing, but they're pretty rare. Most werewolves are in their wolf form at night and can't repress the curse," explained Ellem. "The gate's to keep out wolves, and does an okay enough job. The town's right over this hill."  
  
The jeep drove into town and stopped in front of a crowded bar. They got of the car and stepped inside the bar. The bartender smiled and waved a beer mug. "Hey, Ellem! We won the match!"  
  
"What was the final score?"  
  
"18-5! Take that, Germany!" laughed the bartender.  
  
"Alright, Ian, good to hear!"  
  
The bar actually reminded Clark a lot of the Talon in a weird sort of way. Young couples occupied the corners, while the drunks struggled to stand up, crowding around the television. Clark looked at Ellem, "What's everyone so excited about?"  
  
"Football! Ireland beat Germany!" roared Ellem.  
  
Clark responded shyly, "I... I didn't know you guys had football over here."  
  
Ellem stared at Clark like he was an alien, and considering Clark fell from the stars in a spaceship, there was much irony in the look. "America. That's where you're from. Kid, you actually had me fooled. I can't believe I thought you were Irish. I must be drunk."  
  
Clark looked over at the television set. It was a replay of point made earlier that night. The audience cheered and yelled, "Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!"  
  
Clark's cheeks became a bright red as he realized what sport they had been talking about: Soccer.  
  
"The worldwide tournament's over, but we still got some international games going on," noted Ellem.  
  
Ian, the bartender, finally noticed Clark. "Hey, Ellem! I know you own the place, but it's not exactly fair for the rest of us to have a minor hanging around."  
  
Ellem nodded. "The boy needs a place to stay. Well, okay, I really don't know if he does, but he hasn't argued yet. I'm taking him upstairs."  
  
Ellem led Clark up a flight of stairs in the back and showed him the apartment, which was small compared to the one at the Talon. "It's not much, but it'll do. Where are my manners? You need to use the phone?"  
  
"Um, no, I better not. Listen, can you tell me any more about the werewolves?" asked Clark.  
  
"Oh, sure. I could drone on for hours. But I'll try to keep it short. The full moon triggers the transformations. Since a victim is usually bitten on a full moon, he'll most likely transform into one himself the next night, but it'll only last until a crescent moon. Then, he'll have a bit less than a month of peaceful nights. But once the full moon rolls in again, he'll be changing again and again."  
  
"Yeah, that happens in the movies."  
  
Ellem shook his head, "It's more complicated than that. If the victim's not treated for a werewolf bite, then on the end of the second full moon cycle, he's a wolf for good. No reverse transformations – not even in the day. In the day, they usually go look for a cave to take shelter in, but they never, ever stand on two legs again."  
  
"Literally? The wolf I fou- I mean, met, could switch between a 'natural wolf' and some sort of wolf-man cross."  
  
Ellem shrugged. "Like I said, where this curse is involved, nothing's set in stone. Anyhow, as far as I know, the full moon cycle is up. The only wolves you'll find around here are the poor, unlucky saps that didn't get cured in time. They rarely ever do. Now, why don't you tell me about you and your wolf problem?"  
  
"I'm from Kansas. This new kid moved in and my friends and I suspected there was something different about him. It turns out he was a werewolf. He bit my best friend, and between the two of them caused a lot of damage. Now half of the police force is under this 'curse'. I'm afraid the whole town my suffer."  
  
Ellem shook his head. "Right now, you shouldn't have to worry. It's when the full moon comes back up in the night sky that you should be panicking. The best you can do is try and see if you can get some of the plants and get those policemen cured. By the way, what are you doing in Ireland, besides searching for the plant? How'd you get here? Where are your folks?"  
  
"I kind of... stowed away. I'll tell you more tomorrow," murmured Clark. He glanced over at the guest bed and sat on it. Ellem was already at the doorway, ready to leave. "Thanks... for everything."  
  
"Ah. I'm a softie." 


	18. Chapter 16 Wild Flowers

Chapter 16  
  
Lionel was sitting down in a chair across from Mary Burns' desk, a coffee mug in hand. Mary Burns was an elderly woman with gray, but rich, hair and few wrinkles. Lionel would have to guess that she was around fifty, maybe pushing sixty already. She had a warm smile that reminded him of a grandmother's love for her grandchildren.  
  
Unlike most grandmothers, she wasn't predicting the weather or criticizing the shuttle bus for being five minutes late and most definitely wasn't baking cookies. She was the manager of the WayneHope facility in Ireland. WayneHope, one of the many subsidiaries of Wayne Enterprises, was dedicated to searching for cures to many of today's deadly diseases, such as AIDS.  
  
The office was spacious, rivaling the size of Lionel's personal business sanctuary. Three of the walls were solid and bare. The fourth was behind Mary's desk – a giant window that gave a view of Ireland's magnificent countryside at night (it was about eight o'clock). A small, potted tree stood beside her desk, swaying with the air being blown out of a ventilation shaft.  
  
After the guard had called the Head of Security, Jake Ashmore, he'd led the team to this building, and the secretary quickly set up an appointment for Lionel and Mary. Now, halfway into the meeting, Mary was explaining to Lionel that he could not get what he desired.  
  
This annoyed him. He always got what he wanted.  
  
"You have to understand, sir, that this plant simply cannot leave the country, at least, not in the quantity that you demand. The best I could do is give you a single flower, but even that would be difficult since your company is, well, considered a rival. Mr. Wayne may not allow it," she explained. There is another reason we can't let you have a plant. There was a theft of one, just earlier this week. When security breaches occur, we tend to get greedy and tightly hold on to what is ours."  
  
Lionel clenched the mug tightly, as if he was afraid he would drop it. The theft, he had assumed, had gone unnoticed when he obtained it and given it to Ms. Drake to study; apparently not. "It's a matter of life and death."  
  
"And the studies we are performing here could save lives, Mr. Luthor. For reasons I cannot disclose, the plant must be heavily studied until every secret can be unlocked to us. I'm sorry. We cannot give you a shipment of plants, like you requested."  
  
Lionel glanced at her desk. It was empty except for the closed laptop in front of her. He looked back up at her. "You certainly don't seem to get much work done in this office, do you?"  
  
Mary sighed, furious that the topic had been changed, yet grateful at the same time. "This office is rarely in use, but makes for a fine meeting room, like our meeting, which is over now. Good-bye, Mr. Luthor."  
  
She got up and led Lionel out into the hall. Lionel thought she would follow him into the elevator, but she instead returned to the office and closed the door behind her.  
  
* * *  
  
Martha quietly wept while Jonathon paced the room back and forth, constantly rubbing his temples. She sobbed, "My poor baby... he's gone again..."  
  
"We have to come up with an excuse for why he's not around," muttered Jonathon. "That should come first. Clark can take care of himself."  
  
Martha looked up at Jonathon, horrorstruck. "How can you say that? He is a teenager with virtually no money and running around in a country that's probably full of the only things that can hurt him without the help of kryptonite!"  
  
"Honey, I know. It's just that it could be worse. It has been!" urged Jonathon.  
  
"No. When Clark was in Metropolis, at least he was only three hours away and we knew what was wrong with him. Now, he's over the ocean, maybe not even cured from that wolf bite, and – "  
  
"...And smart enough to make the right decisions to survive. Not reckless and dangerous like when he was wearing the red kryptonite ring. I know it's hard, but we have to trust him. He may be using Lionel Luthor's help, but he's seeking to help others by getting that plant that can cure the police officers that were bitten," finished Jonathon.  
  
Martha wiped away her tears. "What are they doing about that anyway?"  
  
"Well of course, the National Guard didn't want to listen to anything they couldn't control, in this case, the werewolves, so Sheriff Adams ordered that they'd be locked up in the cells and that the town be evacuated immediately. None of the farmers have evacuated because they believe they can protect themselves and their livestock."  
  
"They can't," murmured Martha. She gazed out the window before speaking to Jonathon again. "Do you think these wolves are like the ones in the movies?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"There's no full moon tonight."  
  
* * *  
  
And indeed, none of the police officers turned into their monstrous alter egos, not even after the sun had set. At around eleven o'clock, Sheriff Adams announced that they'd somehow cured themselves and called the janitor to come up from his house and release them.  
  
But she was only partially right. While yes, they wouldn't transform into the wolf anytime that month, they were by no means "cured".  
  
* * *  
  
Lionel returned to the helicopter several hours later with obvious defeat painted across his face. Sgt. Willows walked up to him to question him. "What happened? Why won't they let us gather some of their plants?"  
  
"It seems that WayneHope is strictly prohibiting the export of any of these flowers until they find the cure they desire," explained Lionel.  
  
"And they won't find it," announced a voice from a few feet away. The figure stepped into the light from the flashlights carried by the soldiers.  
  
"Who are you?" asked Sgt. Willows.  
  
The figure wore a cloak, complete with a hood that covered his head and shadowed his face. "Not important. I wish to help you. The so-called miracle plant is ONLY good for curing those afflicted by the wolf bite. That is all. But because of all the proteins and the amphetamines and God knows what else they may have found, they think they can get the plant to cure anything."  
  
"But it can't?"  
  
The hooded man shook his head. "No. It cannot."  
  
Sgt. Willows looked up at the night sky, then back at the man. "What are you doing out here, it's almost midnight."  
  
"Indeed, but I have no where else to be, at least not at the moment. If you want help, I am the one to whom you should speak. For you see, I have a brother that was bitten by a wolf and I wish to help him. I, too, require one of the plants you seek. Though Wayne's men think they own them all, there is an area of land that they do not own full of the flowers. I will lead them to you if you wish. I only require one to save my brother."  
  
"How do you know it is the plant we're after?" asked Lionel.  
  
The hooded man held his hand, "I admit; I eavesdropped. And from your tone of voice, I deduced that there was no other plant that you could possibly want to get your hands on."  
  
"Then show us the way," ordered Lionel.  
  
"Hold it, I'm calling the shots. You are damn lucky we've waited for you this long, but it's about time we got home. This helicopter is considered stolen at this point."  
  
The soldiers looked at each other as the realization sunk in. Lionel noted their expressions and calmed them down. "Don't worry, I'll talk to the people in charge. No one here will be discharged. You were only following orders."  
  
One soldier, a comparatively skinny man with brown hair, spoke up, "Oh yeah? Well, why are we? What the hell are we doing here anyway?"  
  
Lionel sighed, "How many times must I explain? The town of Smallville has been invaded by what I can only describe as werewolves. The problem is, they are also legal citizens of the United States, and so they must be cured, not killed. We are here to get the plant that can cure them!"  
  
Another soldier spoke up as well; this one was blond. "Since when has the Luthor's ever been so altruistic? What's your ulterior motive?"  
  
Lionel repressed a chuckle. "My son is one of them. And at this point, I don't know if he's been cured or not. I'll clear up this mess, friends. Just follow my lead."  
  
Willows looked up at him doubtfully. He added, "Or I'll have you all discharged from the Guard, the Army, the Marines, or wherever else your services can be accepted to protect the country. Then I'll have you blacklisted."  
  
The hooded man chuckled, "You do have a way with them, I see. Anyway, it is best to remain at your helicopter for the night. There are still wolves around, and you must wait until morning, when they go to sleep."  
  
"Why don't you take off your hood?" asked Willows.  
  
The man shrugged. "It's chilly. I wouldn't want to catch a cold."  
  
Moments later, the man backed away and disappeared into the night. 


	19. Chapter 17 The Pack

Chapter 17  
  
Clark didn't wake up where he had fallen asleep. Instead, he awoke in the woods, well away from the town that he'd be taken to last night. This made him wonder: had it all just been a dream?  
  
"Good, you're awake," murmured a voice from behind.  
  
Clark whirled around to find himself face-to-face with a werewolf, calmly sipping a mug of hot chocolate that had been warmed up by a nearby fire. Instantly alarmed, Clark took a few steps back.  
  
The werewolf was different from all the others he'd seen. He had long legs that ended with wolf paws. His arms were flexible and ended with clawed hands. He had a gray mane and ears at the top of his head. His eyes were sharp and showed cunning. You could truly lose yourself staring at those black coal eyes. He had a sort of a half-snout that looked like a snout except shorter, but allowed for human speech.  
  
"Don't worry. I won't harm you," said the wolf. "Just don't make any fast movements. My reflexes are dangerously quick. I may snap your neck in half by accident."  
  
"Accident? Wait, how can you talk?" asked Clark.  
  
"I just can," he answered. "Sit down, Clark."  
  
"How do you know my name?"  
  
The wolf reached over to the fire and shuffled around several leaves. He found a Verizon Wireless cell phone and held it up for Clark to see. The screen showed the date, time, and Clark's name. "This is yours, isn't it? Aren't you Clark Kent?"  
  
Clark nodded, slowly.  
  
"My name's Lance. I've been like this for thirty years now. You're probably wondering how you got here. I found you dumped just outside the gates, unconscious."  
  
Clark thought about that for a second. It was virtually impossible to knock him out, unless it was the result of a fight. He didn't remember anything since he fell asleep in the apartment above the bar. He couldn't be drugged and he was a pretty light sleeper.  
  
"I knew I couldn't get you back into the town," continued Lance. "But it was too dangerous for you to be out in the open like that. So, I brought you here to my little part of the woods. The other wolves don't bother me here just so long as I don't go and bother them or step on their territory."  
  
"Nice arrangement."  
  
Lance nodded. "Mm-hmm. Now come on. We got to go find food."  
  
* * *  
  
Breakfast was cooked squirrels that Lance caught after fifteen minutes of patient waiting and stalking. Though he almost lost his appetite, Clark gave into hunger and gobbled up his squirrel, heating it up when Lance wasn't looking.  
  
"What do you do in the day?" asked Clark when breakfast was over.  
  
"I hunt for more food. But right now I'm doing pretty well. I have some carcasses stored up in that tree over there, and I've still got some traps out. Come, let me show you the countryside."  
  
After an hour-long hike, they were out of the woods and standing on top of a hill that overlooked the countryside, presenting them with a magnificent view. When Clark saw a field of wild flowers, he remembered what he was in Ireland for. "Lance, do you know where I can find this flower I'm looking for? It's purple with these really strange leaves."  
  
Lance grunted. "I know of the flower of which you speak. There's only one field that grows them, and it's own by Wayne Enterprises."  
  
"Are you sure? That's the only field with that flower?"  
  
Lance nodded. "Unless you were to go to Scotland."  
  
* * *  
The hooded man returned to the helicopter in the morning. Lionel was furious. "Where the hell did you go last night?"  
  
"Ahh... I had business to attend to. But now, if your men are ready, we can go get the flower. Sound good?" asked the hooded man.  
  
Lionel nodded. "All right, men! Let's go get those flowers!"  
  
Every soldier carried either a rifle or a handgun and all of them carried a ridiculously heavy backpack. Lionel chuckled, "No, you won't need all that. Take only what you need. The backpacks are a good idea, but... heh... empty them out first. This is just a recovery mission."  
  
The blonde soldier who had mocked Lionel last night spoke up. "We prefer to be prepared."  
  
"That's fine, but for God's sake, why do you need a gun?"  
  
Willows tapped Lionel on the soldier. "Let them take their guns." To the troops she said, "Men, we're going to need room to bring back as many plants as we can, so empty out your bags! Take the lightest guns you can!"  
  
"Why do they have guns with them?" mumbled Lionel.  
  
"It never hurts to be prepared, Lionel." She walked over to the man with blonde hair, who emptied out his bag but held on to his M-16. "I said the lightest gun, Jack, that's a friggin' M-16! Take a Berretta!"  
  
"Who knows what's in those woods," murmured Jack. "I'd like at least one of us to have some heavy firepower along."  
  
Willows sighed. "Fine. Let me make sure everyone's accounted for. Robinson!"  
  
An African-American man with glasses raised his hand.  
  
"Derrick!"  
  
Another African-American, this one much shorter than all of the troops, raised his hand.  
  
"Tom!"  
  
The skinniest (which wasn't very skinny, but he stood out from the rest) man with brown hair raised his hand.  
  
"Omar!"  
  
A Mexican man with short, dark hair raised his hand. He was notably taller than the rest.  
  
"And, lastly, Jack!"  
  
The blonde didn't even bother to raise his hand.  
  
The hooded man stepped up. "So are we ready, then?"  
  
Willows nodded, so he led the way.  
  
* * *  
  
Lance pointed at a large cave in the distance, nestled inside the woods. "You see that place?"  
  
Clark nodded.  
  
"Don't ever go near there. That's where the wolves sleep at day. I've counted twenty of them coming out at night; each of them deadly."  
  
Clark hesitated, but finally asked the question that was burning in his mind. "Lance... how did you...?"  
  
Lance knew what he was talking about. "As far as I know, I was born like this. Until I was eight, I changed regularly every night, full moon or no. Then, one night, I took a life and tasted human blood. My soul was condemned and I was damned. At least, that's what my parents told me is what happened. I'm not sure about the soul part. I killed them in anger."  
  
Clark was shocked and failed to hide it from his expression.  
  
"I've never tasted human blood again. I only kill to survive. And as far as I know, I'm the only wolf man who can talk and is fully capable of making decisions that aren't based on instinct."  
  
"I know how that feels."  
  
"Do you? After I was damned, I didn't change back, not even in the day. I tried taking the flower you're looking for but it doesn't work, at least not for me."  
  
"But you lead a life. That's something."  
  
"Maybe. But it's a lonely life. And no matter how different you are, it's always important to have someone to talk to. Companionship."  
  
Clark backed away, feeling uncomfortable, but didn't run off at super speed like he was tempted to. "I, uh, well..."  
  
"It's alright. Over the years I've met people who don't run away, who try to be my friend. I usually save them, like I saved you. But they always want to get home. And I find a... a good feeling in helping someone. So I help them home. This is the life I lead, and looking back at it like I am now, maybe it's not so bad."  
  
* * *  
  
"You're sure this is it?" asked Lionel.  
  
"Yes," insisted the hooded man. "The field is inaccessible unless you go through that cave. It's only maybe a half-mile walk. There's lots of leg room; you'll be there soon, I promise."  
  
"Very well," decided Lionel. "Onward!"  
  
Willows interrupted. "I give the orders. Onward!"  
  
The troops followed her into the cave.  
  
They had walked for about ten minutes before it got too dark to see and they had to turn on their flashlights. For another ten minutes, they walked. Then another. It was clear that the cave was more than half of a mile long.  
  
They arrived at a large area about the size of a high school cafeteria, which appeared to be empty. Willows instructed the men to keep going, but they were stopped by dozens of pairs of red eyes.  
  
"We're surrounded," realized Jack.  
  
Instinctively, all of the troops pulled out their handguns. Willows whispered her orders, "Wait until we're sure they're hostile."  
  
The pairs of eyes began to bark.  
  
"I'm sure. Are you guys sure?" asked Omar.  
  
The red eyes drew closer.  
  
"Oh yeah, if my soggy pants are any indication, I'm sure."  
  
"So am I," declared Willows, deciding to ignore his remark. "Open fire!"  
  
And the battle began. 


	20. Chapter 18 Betrayed

Chapter 18  
  
The first casualty was Jack. The bullets from his M-16 assault rifle pummeled slug after slug of lead into the werewolves' chests. Finally annoyed, the savage wolves marked him as the most potential threat and decided to take the threat out.  
  
Willows and her troops tried to delay the advance, but their handgun ammunition bounced harmlessly off of the wolves' fur. The first wolf to reach Jack was fifty percent larger than him, and had thick gray hair. He pulled back his paw and slashed the barrel off of the rifle. Jack glanced at his rifle, then up at the wolf. He yelled over the wolf's soldier, "Go! Get out of here!"  
  
Lionel took his order and ushered the troops back through the way they came, despite Willows' protests. "We cannot leave him behind! No troop of mine gets left –"  
  
"He just did," growled Lionel.  
  
Instead of going out directly the way the came, though, they took a path that led around the wolf den that they hadn't seen on the way in. Huddled together, they made their way through. Lionel borrowed one of the troops' handguns and gripped it tightly, expecting for a wolf to pop up at any moment.  
  
"Keep going!"  
  
* * *  
  
Clark was eating berries that he'd picked off of a tree when he heard Ellem calling him. "Ellem? Is that you? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Clark, I'm sorry, there was a raid on the village. A wolf picked you up out of your room and was going to take you to the pack, but I shot him. He dropped you just outside of the gate!"  
  
Clark was confused, not willing to believe that he could have slept through it, but continued to listen to him. He turned to consult Lance, but he was nowhere to be seen. He returned his attention to Ellem.  
  
"Something chased the wolves out of their nest. They're out in the wild! We must take refuge!" Ellem led him through the woods, and although he didn't know it, Clark was being followed by Lance, who leapt from tree to tree silently.  
  
They arrived at a large cave entrance, nestled deep inside the woods. Clark instantly recognized it as the cave Lance warned him never to go into.  
  
"Ellem, I thought you said the wolves were out looking for us," whined Clark.  
  
"Yes, yes, and we must hide here!"  
  
"That's where the wolves sleep, isn't it? Won't they come back eventually?" he asked.  
  
Ellem was silent for a moment, curious as to know how Clark could know this. He finally murmured, "Lance."  
  
"What?"  
  
Suddenly, Clark could hear gunshots coming from inside the cave. Moments later, Willows and her troops exited the cave, followed by Lionel, who was frantically shooting wildly into the entrance. It slowly dawned on Clark. "You betrayed me!"  
  
Ellem feigned confusion. "Clark, what do you mean? And who are you people?"  
  
Robinson perked up at the sound of Ellem's voice. "I know that voice."  
  
"There was no raid. You purposely left me outside the gates, probably for them to come pick me up. You led me here."  
  
"And you led us here," added Derrick.  
  
"I don't know how, but you're working for them, aren't you? Why?"  
  
Ellem chuckled. "Remember I told you that there is no certain rule to the curse of the werewolves? Did you think I was kidding?"  
  
Ellem's grin seemed to pull itself back as a snout began to grow out from his nose. His eyes became wolf-like and acute. His ears migrated from the side of his head to the top. In moments, he was a werewolf, just like the ones the troops had just fought. And behind him, a dozen werewolves stepped out of the cave's mouth. In a hoarse voice, he uttered, "Surprise."  
  
"Run!" ordered Clark. The troops decided to listen to the seventeen- year-old teenager and turned to run. Clark was going to stay and fight, but Lionel grabbed him by his shoulder.  
  
"Are you crazy? Let's go!" barked Lionel. Clark nodded and followed him.  
  
Ellem gave a strange wolf-chuckle and uttered strangely, "You won't get far!"  
  
But from the trees fell a mighty beast, Lance. "They will if I have any say in this."  
  
"Ah, brother!" chuckled Ellem. "Has the wild been treating you good?"  
  
Lance turned and yanked an enormous tree several feet tall out of the ground and slammed it into Ellem's skull. "Don't call me that!"  
  
Ellem groaned and slowly reverted back to his human form. "Afraid of the truth, Lance? Maybe now's not the time to be sharing stories, but it's been so long since we last talked."  
  
Two werewolves tackled Lance and kept him pinned to the ground. Ellem smiled, "Much better. You know, I always did wonder why I could control my transformations and you couldn't."  
  
"Oh, this is one of those conversations?" spat Lance. "Kill me now and spare me the dramatic dialogue"  
  
Ellem chuckled again, evilly, "Sorry, brother. Just trying to rub it in, O' Damned One."  
  
Lance roared and threw the two wolves pinning him down off of him. He leapt high into the air and landed on a branch above him. He waved his fist and yelled down at them, "My clan will not be happy! You haven't seen the last of me! And the next time we fight, it shall be the last!"  
  
"No, it will be this time," chuckled Ellem. He reached into his tattered coat pocket and pulled out a revolver. Using his transformation abilities, he altered his eyes so he could take better aim and fired two shots.  
  
They missed Lance narrowly, who leaped off the branch and swung to another tree, and then another. Ellem fired round after round and finally, on his sixth shot, hit Lance in the back of his neck. He shouted out a cry of pain and fell, transforming back to the human he once was in mid-air, and hit the ground, already dead.  
  
Ellem gave a bow. "Farewell, brother. You were... well, what does it matter? You're dead. Go ahead, my brothers! Feast on his body. I'd join you but, well, I'm watching my weight."  
  
And then he laughed maniacally. 


	21. Chapter 19 Lies

"Clark, what are you doing here?" asked Lionel once they'd slowed down.  
  
"I'm trying to help you find the plant," replied Clark. "I kind of ran into some trouble on the way."  
  
"I can imagine. How'd you get here, anyway?" interrogated Lionel.  
  
Clark panted, faking exhaustion, "Uh, I snuck onto your helicopter."  
  
"Quite a feat. That many hours without food or... observing other needs – that's quite impressive. You never cease to amaze me, Clark."  
  
Clark shrugged, "I just had to remember to use the restroom before I left."  
  
Willows tapped Lionel on the shoulder. "This may not be the best time but if I don't ask now, I may never get an answer. Just who the hell is this guy?"  
  
"Oh, this is Clark Kent," Lionel paused to catch his breath. "And he's quite a talented young man. You'll like him."  
  
"Looks like a farm boy to me," muttered Willows.  
  
"Smallville is a farm town, Sgt. That is to be expected."  
  
"Whatever. Let's just keep moving. I've lost one good troop today and I am not going to lose another"  
  
The hours past, but the team rarely stopped to take a break. The woods were massive and with no means of transportation or even any sense of direction they soon realized that they were not going anywhere.  
  
The sun began to set, baking the land in with its last glow of sunshine. Night fell and when it did, the crescent moon began to rise, shining its reflected light upon the troops.  
  
Fortunately, they finally arrived at the gates of the town. The sight of armed soldiers alarmed Max. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his shotgun, and stepped out of his guard post, aiming his weapon at Lionel. "What do you folks want?"  
  
Lionel kept a dark tone while talking to Max, "Listen. We're tired, hungry, and we've lost a soldier trying to protect ourselves from the wolves. Please let us inside the town."  
  
"Wolves? Any of you been bitten?"  
  
They all shook their heads, but Max didn't lower his shotgun. "Yeah, right. Like I should believe you."  
  
"There's no full moon tonight. Why should you worry?" asked Clark.  
  
"There are other things that trigger the transformation, chap. What are you Yanks doing in Ireland, anyway?"  
  
Willows stepped forward to speak, "We're looking for a plant that can cure our friends who have been bitten. So far, we've been unlucky."  
  
"Oh, Wolfsbane. You won't find any of that here. At least, not for free. In Scotland they've probably got some owned by locals that'll give you a kilo or two. Who's it for?" asked Max.  
  
"Our friends in America."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'll let you pass this time. But swear to me that neither of the clans are looking for you."  
  
"Clans? What clans?" asked Clark.  
  
"Oh, for Christ's sake, I mean the two clans that are always fightin' each other every night. One clan stands upright on their two legs and the other on all fours. How long have you been here?"  
  
"A couple of days," replied Lionel. "And we swear that we haven't angered either of these clans. Please, allow us to enter. You'll be monetarily rewarded."  
  
That perked Max's attention. "Well, alright then. Go on."  
  
Max trotted back into his security box and punched the bright red button on his control panel. The massive gates began to clank and open, revealing the long, dirt trail that led to the town. Willows led the troops inside.  
  
Lionel strode next to Clark, "It seems we have a new piece of information now. Two clans, both alike in dignity."  
  
"Very poetic. I think the question now is how do we get back to the helicopter. I guess we're going to Scotland?"  
  
Lionel chuckled, "No, I'm going to Scotland. You are going to get back on the first plane I can arrange for you to get on that heads right back to Smallville."  
  
Clark scoffed, "What do you care whether or not I come along? I'm sure it's not concern for safety of my well-being."  
  
"Think of it as a personal favor I owe to your mother, Clark. You don't have to be so skeptical."  
  
"It's hard not to be."  
  
"Mr. Ross!" boomed Principal Reynolds as he stormed down the Smallville High School hallway, clearly showing anger by the way he walked. Pete was almost afraid to look up at him after he stopped to face him. "I wonder if you perhaps knew the whereabouts of a certain Mr. Kent?"  
  
"I, uh, I have no idea where – "  
  
"I called his parents on two separate occasions. The first time, his mother told me he was sick. The second, his father answered and told me that he was with an Uncle Jesse. Perhaps you would like to give me his alibi?"  
  
"Sir, I – " stuttered Pete.  
  
"No need to be shy, Ross. It's a common fact that you are good friends. If he were sick, I'm sure you would know by now and if he were on vacation I bet he would have told you. Which is it?"  
  
People stopped briefly to eavesdrop on the exchange, but Principal Reynolds gave them a cold stare that shooed them away. Pete felt like he could cry, "Sir, as far as I know, he's been going through some problems lately. What with his family losing the tractor and all. It's been really hard on their income. I tried talking to him, but he sort of gave me a cold shoulder and I figured he wanted to be alone."  
  
"Nonsense. The tractor incident was well over a week ago and I saw you and him talking cheerfully, like it was the holidays. Now would you please tell me so I can know what to write down on his suspension slip? He knows perfectly well that unexcused absences will be – "  
  
Pete interrupted, "No, sir, you don't understand. Clark thought his family was doing okay even with the lost tractor, but they just lost some of their cattle too..."  
  
Reynolds sighed, "I see. Well, perhaps talking to Miss Sullivan or Miss Lang will prove to be more successful. Good day, Mr. Ross."  
  
No sooner had Reynolds left the hallway did Chloe sneak up behind him and playfully covered his eyes. "Surprise! I heard my name. What's going on?"  
  
"Ah! Chloe!" said Pete, startled. "I swear, talking to that man is like talking to the Devil or something."  
  
Chloe giggled, "You're the last person who should be talking about devils and bad boys. What about that Bad Pete you've got in yourself? The one you unleashed last year?"  
  
"Hey, you did too. And from what Clark told me, Bad Chloe was quite the devil herself. He describes you as, if possible, even more stunningly beautiful than your usual self," lied Pete. Clark had indeed told him what they'd done under the influence of a strange, alien parasite that they'd found in the Kawatche Caves had invaded their bodies, but hadn't mentioned anything like that, though Pete decided to politely flatter Chloe.  
  
"Really? Hey, no fair! He never told me what I did while that thing was inside of me!"  
  
Pete stuttered, since he also remembered that Clark had told him that he'd accidentally revealed his powers in front of her, upon insistence from Pete. It was better to keep that a secret. "Well, we, um... How's the next issue of the Torch coming along?"  
  
Chloe frowned, but went along. "Fine, but I need something else to fill the front page. Maybe an inside scoop on the disappearance of our favorite farm boy?"  
  
"Clark? Oh, he's, um, visiting his Uncle Jesse."  
  
Chloe gave a half-grin, "Really? Because Ma Kent told me that he was in Metropolis with a friend. There wouldn't be something everyone's hiding from me, is there?"  
  
"No, not from you," gulped Pete. He mentally sighed. He and the Kent's were going to have to agree on a lie.  
  
"Right. Well then, I'll be off to fourth period. See you around, Pete."  
  
"Bye," murmured Pete. To himself, he mumbled, "Man, Clark, get home soon! The lies are killing me."  
  
Deep inside the Luthor Mansion in a room that was rarely opened, Lex sat down in front of a laptop studying a three-dimensional rendition of what Roger Nixon believed to have happened on Loeb Bridge over two years ago. It showed a figure colored in solid red, Clark, being rammed off of a bridge by a solid blue Porsche.  
  
Surrounding Lex were several computer screens and monitors either delving into the car crash incident, or displaying symbols found in the Kawatche Caves. This was his sanctuary.  
  
Lex scrolled his mouse over a document and opened it. It opened up another 3-D scenario like the one he had been looking at seconds ago, except this one showed Clark leaping onto the roof of the car and off back onto the bridge. From there, Clark whirled around and dived into the river after the car.  
  
But for that scenario to work, Clark would have had to know that Lex would hit him, and that was impossible. Lex frowned and closed the window. He rubbed his temples and sat his head on the desk.  
  
He tried and he tried, but he could not close his obsession with finding out what had happened at Loeb Bridge. There was no way Clark could have survived being hit at 60 miles an hour. There was no way. He tried to tell himself that he never did hit Clark and that he was pulled out after Clark jumped in after him, but... it was so unlikely. So mysterious.  
  
He snapped awake and the sound of an incoming e-mail alert emitted from his laptop. He clicked on the mail icon, and opened it. The e-mail was from Anony-Guy, one of his shadier sources. The e-mail was short and came with an attachment. "Found this for ya' ;) : Levitas Project."  
  
Lex clicked on the attachment, which opened up a Microsoft Word document boasting hundreds of figures and notes, ending with a summary of the project.  
  
"The ultimate truth serum – perfect for interrogating prisoners of war. Project abandoned for health concerns," said the last paragraph. A smile appeared on Lex's face. The mystery of Clark Kent would have to wait for another day. 


	22. Chapter 20 The Second Clan

Ellem smiled to himself as he polished his revolver, which was loaded with silver bullets. He playfully aimed it a nearby wolf and pretended to shoot, scaring him away. He chuckled to himself and returned to his polishing.  
  
The stench of Lance's carcass would have knocked out a normal man instantly, but Ellem was used to it by now, though it didn't make him any less guilty for shooting his own brother. Fortunately, he wasn't carrying around much guilt from the murder anyway.  
  
A young wolf, black with gray streaks, leapt beside Ellem and snarled at him. To the casual observer, though it was highly unlikely that anyone would be casually viewing this scene, the wolf was just muttering incomprehensive barks. To Ellem's trained ears, the wolf was communicating intelligently.  
  
We don't like that gun, Ell-um, growled the wolf. We want you to put it away! It is ber-den to see brother cradling sil-vur as you are.   
  
Ellem laughed, "This gun is what protects you and the rest of the family from our rival gang. It's just a shame I couldn't get the Kent boy to do the dirty work for me."  
  
The wolf snarled, ,Yes... you seemed awfully close to the plaid one. No hew-man bonding, I hope?   
  
"No. I told all of you my entire plan. I take boy in. I shelter boy. I give boy weapons of silver to protect him. He gets attacked. He kills wolf from other clan. It can't get much simpler than that."  
  
Ellem sighed, remembering the events of the night he took in "Clark". He'd been out stalking the LuthorCorp helicopter in his wolf form, when he smelled Clark. Transforming back into a human, he confronted the farm boy, "protected" him, and took him to the village. Once the boy was asleep and after he decided it would be too difficult to trick him, Ellem merely transformed and knocked him out into a deep sleep, so he wouldn't awaken while he took him out of the building. Unfortunately, he was ambushed by Lance's clan and had to ditch Clark. A pity. He might have made a good feast for his brothers.  
  
It failed! You gave him no sil-vur! He killed no one! He didn't even get bitten, so he can't be one of us! Now your identity is exposed! ranted the wolf.  
  
"No one will believe him," said Ellem rather unsurely, secretly knowing that he would be ostracized from the village. He knew what he would have to do. Despite all his plans, it had come to this.  
  
He had to declare war.

  
  
Chloe walked nonchalantly into the Talon, passing several empty desks on her way to the counter. Behind it, Lana was making herself a cappuccino, bored.  
  
"Hey, Lana. Slow day?" asked Chloe.  
  
Lana turned around, surprised. She smiled weakly and snickered, "Slow? You mean like the speed of a snail? No, that's much too fast."  
  
Chloe nodded, "Ah. That's funny, this is usually rush hour around here."  
  
"When half of the police force is dead and we have the National Guard patrolling every street, business tends to slow. You couldn't figure that out?"  
  
Chloe was taken aback by Lana's sudden directness. Lana's smile faded and she practically collapsed on top of the table. Chloe nudged her gently. "Hey, are you okay?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so... sarcastic like that with you," she groaned. "I'm a mess today..."  
  
"I gathered that when you accidentally poured orange juice in my dad's coffee this morning instead of milk. What's wrong?"  
  
Lana held up her head to face Chloe, "How to put it...? It feels like everything around here is changing. Dread, fear, anxiety..."  
  
"Since when has Lana Lang become Miss Clairvoyant?"  
  
"If you just spend some time with the customers, it's amazing what you pick up from them. Lately, everyone that comes in – not that there's many of them – is worried, one way or another."  
  
"Lana, there's just been a massacre. And... well, we both remember Edward's case."  
  
"Edward? Have you spoken to him?"  
  
"How do you explain to a potentially hostile guy that can turn into a wolf every night, 'it's over'? It's not exactly easy. I haven't seen him around lately anyway. I haven't seen Clark around, for that matter. Have you?"  
  
"No, but Ms. Kent came in earlier to drop off some pies and told me that he was in Metropolis with his grandfather. She looked a bit upset, so I didn't ask anything else."  
  
"Ah, of course," smiled Chloe. Something weird was definitely going around in Smallville. But of course, when you're in Smallville, there's always something weird going on.  
  
Moonfur, a wolf with grizzly gray hair and a black streak running down his hunched spine, was very angry about the reports that Lance had been killed. He gave a great, loud howl that could be heard for miles, including the town where Lionel and Clark had sought refuge.  
  
Blackpaw suffered Moonfur's rage, struck twice with his immense paws and left bleeding, but healing at the fire. The fire was where all of the wolves from Moonfur's clan met to eat and trade stories through their incomprehensive wolf tongues.  
  
These wolves were once, very long ago, humans. Since then, they kept to themselves, but every once in awhile, some unfortunate victim would traverse into their territory and sometimes it would be human. They were entitled to eat, were they not?  
  
Never had they suspected that there would be any danger in attacking mortals. But one night, over a month ago, one boy stumbled into their territory, and Sharpclaw tried to claim him as his meal. Sharpclaw died in his struggle with the boy, struck by silver, and since then, there had been two similar failed attempts.  
  
The Wolf Clan was diminishing, and it had only recently come to Moonfur's attention that the rival clan was at fault. So be it. War would be declared.  
  
At the fire, Moonfur mounted himself atop of a rock and bellowed his growling orders: "Tonight... we take the town..."


	23. Chapter 21 Arsenal

Clark Kent gulped down his Mountain Dew so fast that he nearly felt the burning of carbonized water shooting down his alien throat. In one gulp he finished his 20-ounce soda, attracting the attention of some nearby drunkards.  
  
One of them actually tried to chug down a bottle, but the burning sensation proved too much and they spat it back out. Clark would have found it amusing if his thoughts had not been wandering elsewhere. His thoughts delved into the sea of mysteries, which contained possibly every question he could ever think to ask, but they remained focused on his predicament.  
  
He was in Ireland, halfway across the world from Kansas. How would he get back? The only way he, Lionel, and the troops stood a chance against the werewolves were if he could use his powers, but even then he was seriously outnumbered. Besides, how would he use his abilities without revealing them to Lionel?  
  
"You gonna' pay for that?" barked Ian the bartender. Clark's attention snapped back to the present. He was in the bar that Ellem had introduced him to. Occupying some of the seats were the remaining troops, Willows, and Lionel – who sat down the counter from Clark. Lionel smiled and raised his hand.  
  
"I'll pay for it," assured Lionel. He got down from his stool and trotted over to Clark, sitting in the bar stool next to him. "That is soda, right? You're not sneaking alcohol into it?"  
  
Clark gave him a look of dislike. "I don't drink alcohol, Mr. Luthor, but I don't have to explain myself to you."  
  
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I always felt we could be great friends. Why, someday you could help me run LuthorCorp. Lex is running around with his little LexCorp; I doubt that I'll need him."  
  
"And what would make you think that I would want to help you in any way?"  
  
Lionel chuckled. He chuckled a lot, Clark noticed. "I'm not going to be around forever, Clark. I doubt I'll be around much longer. I need someone I can trust, and I know a trustworthy associate when I see him. We could be great together."  
  
Clark thought of something Lex would say and blurted it out, accidentally, "I plan to be great all on my own."  
  
"I'm sure! You're on your way to the top, isn't that right?" Lionel chuckled some more. "Remember one of our earliest meetings? Last year? Back when I was, ah, blind?"  
  
Clark nodded slightly.  
  
"You left quite an impression. The type of attitude you displayed was the kind that will – well, I told you already, didn't? I said it would get you far. A shame you abandoned that persona," Lionel leaned in to whisper into Clark's ear. "I'm offering you power, Clark. Most people wouldn't turn that down."  
  
Clark looked at Lionel dead in the eye. "I'm not most people."  
  
"Ah, a cliché, but perhaps an apt one." Lionel pulled back and sat forward. He signaled for the bartender to come over. "I'll have some Scotch. You do have Scotch, yes?"  
  
Ian grumbled, "Yeah, yeah..."  
  
"Ahem, yes, anyway, where were we?" resumed Lionel.  
  
Suddenly, a hairy figure burst in through the large window staring outside. Glass littered the ground, slicing into the people that sat nearby, though in number there were few. Fortunately, the bar counter and the troops were far enough away from the window that they had time to react. Willows and her troops yanked out their guns from their holsters and trained them on the figure.  
  
It was a wolf, though twice the size of a normal one. He was large and had neat, tame fur with a black streak that ran down to his tail, which wagged furiously. This was Moonfur.  
  
"Open fire!" ordered Sgt. Willows. No sooner had the bullets left the barrels of the firing guns did everyone drop to the floor seeking cover, except for Clark who shot two invisible blasts of heat vision.  
  
The bullets had little effect, but Clark's heat blast successfully knocked Moonfur to the ground. Dazed, the wolf stayed on the ground, feigning unconsciousness. Seeing little reason to waste ammunition, Willows ordered the gunfire to cease.  
  
Lionel looked up from beneath his bar stool and stared dead at Clark, "Never a dull moment around you, huh?"  
  
Clark looked back at him to answer, and was tackled to the ground by Moonfur. He yelled in anguish as Moonfur's fangs sank deep into his shoulder.  
  
"Fire!" Willows and the troops unloaded a magazine into Moonfur's back, but it caused little damage. Moonfur began to turn around, exposing Clark. "Hold your fire, you might hit the kid!"  
  
"If we don't keep firing, that thing's gonna' tear his freaking head off!" argued Omar. He reloaded his Beretta and took aim. Willows whirled around and neatly grazed Omar's arm with a slug, causing him to drop the gun. "OW!"  
  
"That was an order, soldier!"  
  
Lionel was closest to Moonfur and Clark and revealed two handguns. One of them was the one he had borrowed from Derrick earlier that night, during their escape from the cave. The other was his own personal handgun, which was loaded with the silver bullets Clark had given him.  
  
He trained the guns at Moonfur, who stared down the barrels. A flash of silver shined from deep inside one of the barrels, and Moonfur knew to back off. He let go of Clark, who slumped to the ground nearly unconscious. He whirled around and leapt out of the bar and into the night.  
  
"We did it..." murmured Omar. "We won!"  
  
Robinson thought we kill Omar, "No, you idiot, we just managed to scare him away. Who knows how many of them are out there. Why'd it run away, anyway?"  
  
Lionel got up. "He must have sensed that my gun was loaded with a silver cartridge."  
  
"Why didn't you shoot him?"  
  
"I can't afford to waste bullets and scaring him off proved effective. We're going to need more of these, though."  
  
Clark got up and groaned. If one were to live in a town where it was common knowledge that werewolves lived not a mile away, he or she would also make sure they were prepared to defend themselves. Therefore, he reasoned, there had to be silver somewhere in the bar. He turned on his x- ray vision.  
  
Sure enough, hidden away in a closet behind the bar, was a trunk full of silver weapons.  
  
"Oy!" called a drunk who hadn't moved from his booth throughout the entire fight. "Can I get another beer?"

  
  
Clark eventually managed to come up with an excuse to maneuver his way to the back of the building and pretended to just happen to find the trunk full of assorted silver weapons. It was locked with an advanced padlock (clearly Ellem wanted to be the only one with access to them) but Clark easily broke it off with his super strength and hid the remains.  
  
"These are great," admired Lionel as he held up a silver sword. "One hundred percent pure silver!"  
  
Willows had to smile, fighting back tears from remembering Jack's death, "Yeah... way to go, Smallville."  
  
"Me likes," commented Omar, holding up another pack of silver bullets and loading them into his Beretta. "So let's go hunting."  
  
Clark was glad that at least now they stood a fighting chance, even though he would of preferred to approach the situation with a non-lethal way, it didn't look like that was going to happen. Subconsciously, he scratched the bite mark on his shoulder. His vision suddenly blurred slightly and he almost toppled to the ground.  
  
"You okay, Clark?" asked Lionel. "You look green."  
  
"No... no, I'm fine."  
  
The company left the bar armed with axes, swords, knives, and silver ammunition – leaving behind only scared patrons. As they walked down the street in search of the wolves that had attacked them, Ellem's words burned into Clark's mind: "There are no set rules to this werewolf gig."


	24. Chapter 22 Lance's Damnation

Ellem looked glumly at his town from his perch atop of an especially large boulder. His eyes sharpened and focused in on a small crowd of people leaving his bar. Among them was Clark Kent.  
  
Clark Kent, Ellem could tell, was no ordinary boy. He had not succeeded in manipulating him, but that was probably simply because he hadn't had the time. His plan had been faulty from the start, but it was the best he could do while keeping the guise of an ordinary human.  
  
By now, Ellem suspected that his true identity had already been revealed to the town. There was no reason to keep his double persona alive. He closed his eyes and focused on the image of a wolf until it was burned into his mind. He imagined the snout on the wolf (his nose grew longer). He imagined the fangs that the wolf bared (his teeth grew sharper). He imagined the pointy ears picking up any slight rustle of movement in the bushes (his ears migrated to the top of his hand and to the form of pointy wolf-ears).  
  
In less than ten seconds, Ellem was a wolf.  
  
In the case of Ellem, one could be a werewolf at their leisure. They could switch between forms whenever they wanted at no expense to their soul or health. But, there was one "rule" (if it could be called that): the wolf side of the mortal, in this case, Ellem, could never taste human blood without self-assuming damnation and forever taking on the form of a wolf.  
  
All it took was one bite. One bite from some drunk, or some rich snob that angered him in the line for the hot dog stand, or some floozy that got smart with him; it didn't matter. Should he sink his canine claws into them, that would be an act of declaring damnation and the curse would be complete. He would be damned. He would be a wolf. And the devil would have his soul.  
  
Lance had not believed in this. He thought that there was some scientific explanation for his transformations, or otherwise some miracle that gave him a sense of power and control that could not be abused since it was part of he who he was. Then, that one fateful night...  
  
_ "Aw, mum, do I have to?" pleaded Ellem. "None of the other kids drag around their eight-year old brother with them!"  
  
His mother was half-listening and half-brushing the hairs off of Ellem's coat before ushering him out the door to go to the movies. "Now, Ellem, you know that you're responsible for your brother. I bet that makes you feel grown up, doesn't it? Having a responsibility?"  
  
Ellem muttered, "Responsibilities are for sissies."  
  
"Young man, everyone has responsibilities and you just happen to be fortunate enough to have one of the more important ones. Now, behave yourself, or you'll be going to Aunt Margery's instead!"  
  
From behind Ellem's brother came Lance, galloping down the stairs two steps at a time, a big grin on his face. His mother smiled, "All ready now, Lance?"  
  
"Yes!" answered Lance, cute as a button.  
  
His mother smiled, "And what movie are you and Ellem going to go see?"  
  
Ellem groaned, "The War of the Worlds, mum, I told you!"  
  
"Hush!" scolded Mother. "I was asking Lance. Lance, is that what you two are going to go see?"  
  
Lance nodded madly, gaining a chuckle from Mother. But her face grew serious, "Now, remember what we talked about."  
  
Lance nodded again. "No transforing!"  
  
Mother chuckled. "Transforming, Lance. Now, you and Ellem run along now."  
  
Lance hugged and kissed Mother on the cheek, then sped out the door eagerly. Ellem groaned one last time as he was hugged by his mother and then slumped out the door. Waiting for him at the bottom of the steps outside was Lance, ready to hit the street.  
  
The walk took about ten minutes before they saw the looming movie theater shining brightly in the night, nestled among other darkened buildings. This was the only safe place in the entire neighborhood. Tonight, it wasn't so safe.  
  
Underneath the gigantic sign displaying the playing movies, Ellem's fifteen-year old friends were waving happily at them – well, at him. They had not yet seen Lance, but when they did, the smiles faded and the hands returned to their sides. The biggest boy of the group of friends, James, walked up to them. "Ellem, what's this twerp doing here?"  
  
"He's my little brother. I have to take care of him tonight while my folks... um... are sick. He's alright."  
  
James grabbed Ellem by his coat and slammed him against the wall of an alley out of Lance's hearing range. "No, he's not. How do we know he's not going to go off and squeal?"  
  
"We dump him at the theater thinking that's where we're going, then we go off and smoke. He never has to see us," reasoned Ellem. "Let go of me."  
  
James gave him a cold stare, then let go of Ellem's coat. "Yeah. Yeah, all right, fine. But if we get caught – by anyone – we're pinning the blame on you."  
  
Ellem chuckled. In his wolf form, he would have no trouble fighting anyone off; he wasn't scared of his mother's warnings.  
  
So the plan was carried out. Ellem led Lance inside to the theater playing "War of the Worlds", told him that he was going to get popcorn, and went straight out of the building to his waiting friends, none of them very happy.  
  
"I told you it would work," smiled Ellem.  
  
"Yeah, Einstein, you just solved global warming. Brilliant," muttered Sammy sarcastically.  
  
"Shut it, Sam, or you don't get your part of the weed," warned James.  
  
They walked down the street and climbed over a fence into a junkyard, where they made their way furthest back and took out the stash of marijuana that they intended to smoke. After a few puffs, everyone was high.  
  
"Man, your brother's slow. I can't believe he fell for it!" laughed James once they were very high. "I-I-I bet he's crying right now in that dark movie theater! 'Waa... where's my brother?'"  
  
Ellem wanted to punch James; he really did. But his mind was too blurry for him to think clearly. And besides, it was kind of funny.  
  
None of them noticed the figure leaping from junk pile to junk pile, surveying the situation. The figure wasn't big, but he was hairy, and possessed extremely sharp claws and fangs.  
  
He leapt! Down to the ground, right in the middle of the puff-fest. He whirled around, counting how many people he would have to deal with, and then he saw Ellem. "Ellem! It's me, Lance!"  
  
All of Ellem's friends glared at Ellem, who looked in horror at Lance. The distraction proved effective for James, who pulled out a switchblade and charged Lance, stabbing him in the stomach.  
  
Lance roared so loud that the junk piles began to shudder. He pulled back his arm and smacked James so hard he went flying into one of the piles.  
  
Other of his friends pulled out switchblades, kitchen knives, or whatever they could find on the ground that they could use as a weapon, like glass shards. Seeing that they clearly wanted to fight, Lance went into action.  
  
He leapt out of the circle and landed neatly behind a girl named Jade, swiped the knife out of her hand and gently knocked her out. He then proceeded to the next teenager, who showed off his Tae Kwon Do skills. Lance charged him, pushing him into an upright metal pipe. The pipe was sharpened at the end and stabbed him, causing geysers of blood to fill the air.  
  
James got up from the junk pile and groaned, clutching his head. Once everything stopped swimming around him, he took in his surroundings.  
  
Lance was on a rampage. He severed the arm off of one teenager, and cracked the neck of another. One of his last victims had his heart ripped out by his sharp claws.  
  
Ellem pleaded, "Lance, what are you doing??"  
  
"These are bad guys, Ellem! I'm protecting you!" explained Lance.  
  
Ellem could take it no further. He closed his eyes and took the form of a wolf, twice as big as Lance. James just watched as this happened.  
  
Ellem tackled Lance, pinning him to the ground, but Lance used his momentum to his advantage and hurled Ellem off of him. Lance grabbed the pipe that impaled one poor teenager, ripped the boy off, and smacked Ellem with the pipe.  
  
Lance turned his head just enough to catch James out of the corner of his eye. He moved his body to face him and charged him. This time, he didn't stop at that. He opened his jaws and bit into James' neck. James screamed in anguish and died.  
  
Ellem watched in horror as all of this happened. Lance's body was covered with blood. The blood on his fur then took the form of a blanket – a blanket that began to choke him and smother him. A tense two minutes later, the blanket faded.  
  
And Lance was forever a wolf._  
  
Lance had disappeared into the night after that. Ellem decided that Lance must have gotten worried after waiting for Ellem to return and transformed into a wolf, which could have tracked him down much faster.  
  
His mother had been very disappointed and very angry with Ellem. But all that was in the past. There was a war to fight now.  
  
With his exceptional eyes, Ellem noticed several wolves closing on the group of troops, Lionel, and Clark. None of them noticed the wolves.  
  
Ellem gave out a roar, calling all of the wolves at his disposal to attention, and ordered them to attack everyone and everything in the town in order to wipe out the opposing clan.  
  
Then, before going down to the town himself, Ellem returned to his human state. He'd avoided eternal damnation this long and, damn it, he wasn't going to sell his soul just yet. He pulled out a revolver from a hole that he'd dug earlier. He loaded it. And then he went down to the town. 


	25. Chapter 23 Declaration of War

Clark's body trembled, but none of the troops noticed, because they all had their guns focused at the pairs of red eyes that surrounded them.  
  
"Not this again!" mumbled Tom, who hadn't spoken throughout the whole trip.  
  
"Clark?" asked Lionel. "Are you sure you're all right?"  
  
Clark looked up at Lionel, who was horrified by what he saw. Clark's eyes were yellowish, with black slit-shaped pupils in the middle. He bared his teeth and got to his feet, growling madly at Lionel.  
  
"Oh my God, not you too!" murmured Lionel.  
  
Clark stopped himself from tearing Lionel and the troops to shreds and instead jumped at the nearest pair of eyes, pummeling his fists into the skull of unlucky wolf. When the fistfight was done, Clark emerged victorious with the dead creature at his feet. Using his fingernails, he cut open the hide of the wolf and skinned the creature in less than a minute, while the troops tentatively opened fire at the other surrounding beasts.  
  
The lead bullets bounced harmlessly off the skins of the wolves, but they did anger them. They revealed themselves in the pale beams of light illuminated by the street lampposts. Willows clutched her silver-ammunition- loaded-pistol tightly and aimed it at a wolf – Blackpaw. Her laser sight pointed directly between Blackpaw's eyes and gave her the signal to fire.  
  
So she fired.  
  
The bullet left the barrel of the gun in a brilliant display of showering sparks, traveling incredibly fast and headed for Blackpaw. But Blackpaw's reflexes had honed over the years, and he saw it coming with plenty of time to take aim and fire two streaks of fire from his eyes. The bullet melted under the intense heat and fell to the ground as a chunk of oozing superheated silver.  
  
By now, Clark had ripped the hide off of the wolf, and he chose to don the hide like a thick fur coat. To everyone's surprise, the fur seemed to close around Clark, becoming his second skin and changing him into the werewolf.  
  
_AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!_  
  
It was clear to Ellem, who was nearby, what that howl had meant.  
  
It meant, "Let war begin." 


	26. Chapter 24 Daddy's Requiem

Edward cuddled up into a fetal position against a cold hard rock in the cave as a burst of neurons fired painfully in his brain. They were unleashing repressed memories from... how long ago? Three years ago?  
  
Oh yes, three years ago. It had been Edward's last year of middle school – eighth grade. Edward Drake had gone with Melissa Connors to the school dance. You know, that dance that celebrated their last year of Junior High. Everyone that attended eighth grade at Gotham Junior High would be there! Edward, his best friend Francisco, Melissa, her best friend, Grace – everyone – was going to be there.  
  
Melissa had always liked Edward. She found him charming in his unique own way. They'd met long ago, in Kindergarten, but never really talked to each other until about fourth grade. Their mutual romantic interest began around halfway through sixth grade, ironically enough, in a Health class.  
  
"The adolescent will go through many changes, such as the production of new hormones – " the voice narrating the movie would drone. The school board gave the Health classes a list of movies that the girls and the boys would have to watch separately. This teacher deliberately went out and found a video that wasn't on the list, but had been approved by the National division of Education. The teacher, a Coach Coon, would smile as everyone giggled at words like "scrotum" and "urethra".  
  
That's when Edward looked over at Melissa and saw... saw something he'd never be able to explain.  
  
And so began two and half long years of constant flirting and phone calls. They wanted to, so badly, to be more than friends, but it didn't seem just right. That's what was so great about tonight, thought Edward, because tonight he would be able to take her to the dance.  
  
Yes. The dance.  
  
It began simple enough. They rendezvoused outside the gymnasium, exchanged a few words, and then went in – hopeful for a night they would never forget.  
  
And they didn't forget. Well, Melissa didn't.  
  
You see, Cain Drake drove up to the school and barged into the dance, looking for his son. He yelled at him for forgetting something. Edward was supposed to take out the trash or something. It wasn't that important. So Edward talked back to his father, embarrassed that he just stormed in making a big deal over nothing. Nothing! But Cain didn't take that.  
  
No, Cain smacked his child across the face, that's what he did. A police officer came up from nearby and jabbed him with his baton. Cain gave the officer a look, told him to mind his own business, and shoved him so that his hand covered the officer's breast pocket, and in Cain's palm was a one hundred dollar bill.  
  
Cain grabbed his son by the collar and dragged him out of the gymnasium. The officer made no move to follow.  
  
And there, in the parking lot, Cain kicked his son. When he fell to the ground, Cain simply grabbed his collar and yanked him to his feet. Then he punched him square in the face.  
  
A full fifteen minutes of the beating passed by and no one made a move to stop it, most certainly not the officer. He was just minding his own business now.  
  
Oh, Edward was so messed up that he limped to the car and did not make a sound as his father drove him home. When they got home, Cain stayed in the car while Edward rushed to the house, bolted up the stairs and locked himself in his room. He crawled over to his mirror and took a good look at it. He saw his reflection.  
  
A black eye, bloody lip – not as bad as it could have been. Where was his mother? She should have been home by now! Why was she always out working for that guy? That guy that took over while that other guy was gone, dead, whatever.  
  
Edward hurled himself onto his bed and fell asleep.  
  
His dream was twisted. He was leaping from building to building, finally crashing through the roof of one of them. He fell, fell, and fell until he hit the bottom floor. The floor beneath him opened up and swallowed him, where he landed in a pitch-black room.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked. Suddenly, he felt a whip hit his skull. The crack of the whip seemed to echo in the room forever. He begged, "Don't hurt me!"  
  
Slowly, Edward turned around and saw his parents horrendously combined to form an amalgam of the two. A tear slid down Edward's cheek, and that's when he woke up.  
  
And he had no memory of the night before. Not taking Melissa to the dance, not being embarrassed, and not abused by his father. Why, when he went down to breakfast, his father was acting overly jittery.  
  
"Wonderful day, isn't it, son? Oh, if you're wondering where your mother is, she left for work early today!"  
  
Edward nodded solemnly. There was no school that day. It was Saturday. So he just trotted back up to his room after eating a few pancakes and collapsed back onto his bed. He slept for hours.  
  
No, Edward Drake was insane long before the wolf bite that gave him lycanthropy. The bite had simply managed to unleash his inner demon. The one everyone had.  
  
What hurt Edward even more, besides just now remembering all of this, was remembering what came after.  
  
The weekend rushed by rather quickly. In no time at all, it was Monday, and Edward was back in school (there was still one week left). Everyone who'd been at the dance did his or her best to avoid looking him in the eye. Only his best friend Francisco even bothered to stay and chat with him for more than two seconds, and even had to hurry to class.  
  
Then he saw Melissa, walking with Grace. He smiled and walked up to her. She stopped, but Grace kept walking.  
  
"Hey," he smiled.  
  
Melissa looked stunned, not sure how to go about this. Thoughtlessly, she embraced him in a hug, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and pulled back. She whispered in his ear, "It... it won't work."  
  
And then she left.  
  
And Edward had no idea why for the ongoing week everyone ignored him. On the first day of high school, Edward begged to be transferred to a different school and was granted his request. He got a fresh new start, away from all the kids who had seen him beaten up by his own father.  
  
Only he didn't know about that until just now.  
  
Edward leapt to his feet and howled. It echoed tremendously against the cave walls. When he was done crying, he limped to the entrance of the cave and looked outside. It was dusk.  
  
Edward stared at his hairy, clawed hands and licked them. How many days had he gone on like this, unable to revert back to his human form?  
  
It didn't matter, he decided.  
  
He sprang out of the cave through the entrance and switched to his wolf form, running at full speed to his destination.

Elsewhere, Cain Drake parked the car in the driveway, sighed, and rubbed his temples. He'd always neglected his son – he realized that now. He should have foreseen that Edward eventually try to run away (his only explanation for his sudden disappearance), especially after that tragic event three years ago.  
  
A short temper had never been the attribute of a good father, but he never dreamed it would leak to harm his son. If he could, he would go back and fix that moment, but... but he couldn't.  
  
And now his son was gone.  
  
_THUMP_! Something heavy landed on the roof of his car, leaving a deep indent and startling the hell out of Cain. His hand wrapped around the door handle. He slowly turned it, opening the door. And then a big, furry hand punched through the roof.  
  
Cain couldn't hear himself scream, but he could hear the shredding of metal as the wolf peeled the roof off like aluminum. Exposed, Cain tried to leap out of the half-open door, but Edward grabbed him by the collar and held him high up in the air.  
  
"Oh... oh, oh, oh God! Lemmedown, lemmedown! Please! Please, dear God, let me down!" begged Cain. But Edward did not listen. He brought Cain close to his face.  
  
"Remember me, daddy?" he uttered in a low voice.  
  
"Ed... Eddie? Oh God, forgive me! Please! Forgive meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" he yelled.  
  
Edward didn't listen. Edward thrust Cain onto the car and bit deep down into his neck, lapping up the blood that flowed out, and then dragged him into the basement so no one would witness the feeding frenzy.  
  
It took him a full hour, but he finally finished every last piece of meat on his father's body. Now to wait for his mother.


	27. Chapter 25 Battle of the Century

"That wolf just shot fire from his eyes. What kind of freaking wolf shoots fire from his eyes??" whined Omar, referring to the Blackpaw, who'd melted the silver bullet heading for him in mid-air. Omar pointed at Clark with his silver sword. "He's one of them too, for God's sake!"  
  
Willows pistol-whipped Omar. "Snap out of it, soldier. You were trained to fight for Uncle Sam! I don't care if you're off of his land, you fight!"  
  
"Look out!" Omar tackled Willows, pinning her to the ground. The wolf that had been sneaking up on her from behind flew over his target. Omar lifted up his chin, everything happening in slow motion for him, even without super speed. He saw the wolf sailing over his head, striking empty air. Omar raised his right hand – the hand that held the silver sword – and stabbed the wolf, straight through the heart.  
  
The wolf roared in pain and hit the ground face first. He twisted around in agony and finally died, reverting back to his once human form at long last.  
  
"I did it!" murmured Omar.  
  
"Snap out of it, private! There's still fifty to go!" announced Willows. She got up and rushed off to fight another wolf, but turned back and winked at Omar at the last moment. "Thanks, O'."  
  
"Yeah, there's nothing like a femme with authority," smirked Omar. He turned to kick some more werewolf ass.  
  
Meanwhile, Lionel was carefully lining up his shots, and had killed three wolves by the time he bumped into Tom. Tom wielded a crossbow loaded with silver arrows. They nodded at each other and whirled around, facing the direction that the other had been previously facing and fired. Both arrow and bullet found their marks.  
  
The scene was set. Two clans, one led by Ellem, and one led by Moonfur, plus the group of troops and Clark and Lionel – were all facing each other smack dab in the middle of the town that was guarded by massive gates, that were, for the moment, trapping them. The middle of the town was a round slab of cement about half of a kilometer in diameter, dotted with various planted trees.  
  
Clark was literally running around howling, clutching his head – trying to fight the instinct that urged him to kill and the conscience that told him to aid his friends.  
  
In his stumbling, he bumped into Ellem, who had been trying to stay on the outside of the fight, holding a silver-ammunition-loaded revolver. Ellem smiled and turned to face Clark, gun in hand.  
  
He fired.  
  
Seeing the bullet heading for him, Clark super sped out of the way and behind Ellem. With a "gentle tap", he knocked out Ellem.  
  
For a moment, wolves from Ellem's clan froze, sensing their fallen leader. Two more wolves fell – one killed by a rival clan wolf, and the other by Robinson. Moonfur, enraged that mankind was winning overall, bellowed an incomprehensive howl that was only understood by canines: "A truce! Take down the humans!"  
  
Every wolf stopped their battles and moved at an incredible speed in circles. One by one, the troops found themselves being pushed back into a circle. They were trapped – surrounded – and most certainly dead meat.  
  
Fortunately, the nearby boy of steel came to his sense despite his furry appearance. He ran and leapt into the middle of the circle, picked up Willows, and jumped back over the circle, gently setting her down in a nearby alley.  
  
He repeated the same process for all the other troops, occasionally firing a beam of heat vision to distract the wolves and completed the task of rescuing them in just under five seconds.  
  
Clark walked out to center of the town, where the wolves eyed him hungrily; angered that he had prevented them from executing the pitiful humans. Clark flashed his claws and his fangs, and then gave a roar that could be heard for miles.  
  
Roughly, it meant: "Bring it on!"  
  
Blackpaw attacked first. He charged Clark, lifting him off of the ground and slamming him into a tree. Clark mentally cursed himself. When Edward had bitten him, he'd had the freedom of switching between "wolf man" and wolf, and now he was a hulk with the ability to stand on his hind legs and retain most of his powers. Sure, it made him powerful, but he was nowhere near as nimble or agile as he had been when he was the smaller "wolf man".  
  
Clark shook off the daze and yanked the tree off of its roots. Using it like a baseball bat, he swung it at Blackpaw, knocking him far away – perhaps even a mile. Clark smiled. It was a useful technique he would have to remember to use in the future. Now he'd deal with the others.  
  
This time, a wolf from Ellem's clan stepped up to fight. He strategically moved around Clark, forcing our alien teenager to turn his back to the rest of the wolves. Bad move.  
  
All at once, they leapt at him, clawing and chewing at his flesh. Clark thought he would pass out from the pain, but he regained his focus. Summoning all his concentration, Clark stood up on his feet in a flash, knocking most of his opponents off of him.  
  
"Smallville!" called Willows from not far away. What was she doing here? She could get hurt! Willows did not seem to care for her safety. In her right hand was a silver-bladed dagger. She threw it for Clark ("Smallville") to catch.  
  
It landed neatly in his hand and he prepared to stab all of the wolves to death when something stopped him. One wolf looked at him – their eyes meeting for the first time. It wasn't love or anything like that, but Clark felt a certain compassion for the wolf. After all, underneath all the fur and the magical aura he'd seen earlier was a human. Human – no – all life was sacred. This battle would have to find a peaceful resolution.  
  
Clark dropped the dagger.  
  
"Smallville! Clark! What are you doing??" yelled Willows, marking him as insane. "Kill the b – "  
  
Clark stopped listening. He didn't want this.  
  
Lionel did.  
  
In what witnesses could only describe as a blur, Lionel sprung out from his hiding place in the alley and ran up beside Willow, pulled the pin off of a grenade and threw it at the "wolf pile". Thousand of tiny pieces of shrapnel – silver shrapnel – were spread all over them, cutting them.  
  
Half of the wolves within the radius of the shrapnel explosion died instantly.  
  
Clark was not one of them, managing to super speed away at the last moment. He watched in horror as several of the wolves writhed in pain and lost their aura, converting back to humans for the last seconds of their lives. Had they asked for this lifestyle? How many were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time when they received the curse?  
  
Wolves from both clans attended to the dying, working together to see what could be done, carefully removing the shrapnel. It was a small token of consolation for Clark to see the rival clans working together at last. But Lionel would have hell to pay.  
  
He turned to approach the troops and Lionel when the crack of dawn began. Rays of sunlight bathed the countryside and soon, the town as well. Clark felt an immense pain in his chest and the primal instinct to rip off his fur.  
  
He did so, stripping every last hair, and buried it. Once the werewolf skin was buried, his senses returned and he immediately felt embarrassment for his nudity.  
  
Omar brought over some clothes. The wolves had retreated into the woods, taking as many of the dead as they could with them. They wouldn't notice until later that Ellem had disappeared long before the battle had ended.  
  
"Cheesy ending," muttered Omar. "Humans win, but the wolves get over their differences and start working together."  
  
Derrick, Tom, and Robinson all glared and told him in unison, "Shut up."  
  
Willows looked at Lionel, "Is it over?"  
  
Lionel shook his head. "I suspect that the people here will continue to have wolf problems. But we should be fine."  
  
"Got some loose ends, don't we?" noted Robinson, pointing at Clark.  
  
"I need Wolfsbane – that will cure me," explained Clark.  
  
Tom spoke, "I don't think that will be necessary. Step back, guys."  
  
Everyone moved a few yards away and watched as Tom dug up the hole that Clark made where he'd buried the wolf skin. He took out a grenade, pulled the pin, dropped the bomb, and ran like hell. Moments later, the grenade exploded, burning the skin.  
  
"Fantastic, now we're minus one werewolf. Can anyone explain to me why we're still here?" asked Omar, annoying as ever.  
  
"We still have to get that Wolfsbane for the folks in Smallville. Apparently, the only Wolfsbane for free is over in Scotland," reminded Derrick.  
  
"Then that's our destination," announced Lionel.  
  
A few of the townspeople were waking up (or sobering up) and walked outside. Most of their jaws dropped as they saw the destruction caused by the battle. One man threw his hands in the air and told his wife, "That's it! We're moving!"  
  
Max the security guard walked over to them, marking the first time he'd left his security outpost in days. He shook his head and walked right up to Lionel Luthor. "Jesus Christ, what the hell did you do here?? Drop a bomb? Is that what all the explosions have been about? What am I going to tell the mayor?"  
  
Clark raised his eyebrows. "You guys have a mayor?  
  
It was a few hours before they were off the hook but finally, around noon, Lionel and Clark, followed by Willows and her troops, walked calmly down the steps of the mayor's home equipped with a GPS device.  
  
"Sure was a nice guy," retorted Omar sarcastically. "But seriously, did you guys try the cookies his wife made? They made this whole wolf war almost worth it! Mmm... never thought I'd appreciate macadamia nuts this much!"  
  
"Somebody shut him up," grumbled Willows. Tom took out his uneaten cookie and shoved it into Omar's hands. It was a bad idea; Omar kept rambling even more about the damn cookie.  
  
Clark gazed silently at the road ahead of him that led back to the central part of the town. Lionel noted that he hadn't said much. Deep inside, Clark didn't know how to feel about his best friend's father. Lionel Luthor was always portrayed as a monster, but how much did he really know about him?  
  
Indeed, his earlier encounters with Lionel were during his blindness period. But later in the year, Clark saw him for who he was – a potentially obsessed madman. He'd fashioned his own kryptonite key and had intended to insert it into the keyhole in the Kawatche cave wall. With each act like that, he was one step closer to discovering Clark's secret.  
  
How much did Lionel suspect about Clark? Was Lionel having him spied on? Could he have gotten one of his friends to betray him?  
  
"Troubled, Clark?"  
  
Yes, Clark was troubled. Dangers were now behind him, though not forever. Now was as good a time as any to reflect on his problems. But... but anytime after Clark would face a challenge, his mother would always give him a cookie and tell him to relax. Even teenage heroes (that's what Mom called him) needed to rest. Clark had had his cookie. Now it was time to relax.  
  
"No, Mr. Luthor, I'm fine," murmured Clark, barely audible.  
  
"Well I hope we've been through enough for you to call me Lionel. It's not that much trouble, is it?" chuckled Lionel.  
  
Clark didn't answer. Willows interrupted their brief exchange.  
  
"Guys, come here. Everyone." Everyone gathered around Willows and glimpsed at the screen of her GPS device. She was pointing at an area of the woods. "Okay, we left the helicopter somewhere around here. But – oh God, this is so embarrassing. We can't remember where we parked a helicopter! Honestly, why didn't we bring the GPS we had onboard?"  
  
"Must have been the rush. Go on," urged Lionel.  
  
Willows sighed, still red in the face, "Um... right, the signal that's constantly sent from the helicopter is coming from over here, on Wayne property."  
  
"Wayne stole our helicopter? He stole government property!" said Omar, alarmed.  
  
"Yeah, well, we'll ask him about it."  
  
They arrived at the gates within fifteen minutes. Max was waiting for them with a military jeep. He smiled and tossed the keys to Willows. "Mayor phoned ahead. He said to let you yanks borrow this."  
  
Omar grinned, "Well, he can't be all that bad."  
  
They all squeezed into the jeep and were silent for most of the trip to the Wayne facility with an occasional dirty comment from Omar ("Hey, Sarge! Is it pink? Do you wear pink und – " SLAP!). When they arrived, Willows stormed to the receptionist's desk prepared to claim ownership for the helicopter, but the receptionist smiled before she got a chance to speak and informed them which hangar the chopper was in. "Ms. Burns called Lucius Fox and informed him of the predicament you folks were in. Of course, he was happy to help American soldiers and arranged for the helicopter to be transported and refueled."  
  
"Wait, the Wayne dude didn't get the thing moved?" asked Omar rather stupidly. "Who's this Fox guy?"  
  
The receptionist was annoyed. "Mr. Wayne is much to busy with his... well, never mind what he does. Lucius Fox currently runs Wayne Enterprises, a mutual agreement with the Wayne family."  
  
Omar rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You know, Wayne's supposed to be rich and all, but his picture has never made front-page news. I don't even know how old he is."  
  
They began to move towards the hangar, but Lionel stayed behind, grabbing Clark's collar and keeping him behind too. "Excuse me, miss, I was wondering if it were possible to arrange transportation for this young man to the nearest airport? He needs to get on a flight back to Kansas."  
  
The receptionist blinked, "He's not...? Um, our own jets could probably take him. I would have to clear it with some folks..."  
  
"No, I just need him to be taken to an airport. I'll pay for his flight. The last thing I need is more hassles."  
  
"I suppose that's reasonable. Fine, I'll call someone to come pick him up and take him. The international airfield is only a couple of miles away. Wait over there, young man."  
  
Clark walked over to a bench and sat there, not meeting Lionel's eye. Lionel walked uncomfortably in the other direction to follow the troops, with a nagging feeling that he'd offended Clark in some way. He dismissed it ultimately, however.  
  
When Lionel was gone and the receptionist looked back down at her computer screen, Clark smirked and disappeared from the office in a super blur. 


	28. Chapter 26 Two's Company

The helicopter lifted into the air unaware of their stowaway. Well, two stowaways. One was underneath the chopper holding on for dear life – Clark – and one inside the chopper hidden in a very cramped crate. No one noticed either of them.  
  
A technician in the control tower saw Clark holding on to the bottom, but decided that he had a bit too much to drink before coming to work and kept quiet.  
  
A few hours later, the helicopter settled formally in an airport in Aberdeen, Scotland. With a couple of bribes, no one knew that they were in the country, and the helicopter was refueled for the trip back to America. Clark discreetly let go about a mile from the airport and super sped into the city to find out where he could get the Wolfsbane.  
  
First, though, he would have to call his mother.  
  
Thousands of miles away, in Kansas, Martha Kent heard the phone ring. Who would call so late? "Hello?"  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Clark! Where are you? Are you okay? Have you eaten?"  
  
"Yeah mom, I'm fine. Listen, I'm in Scotland; I'm looking for the plant that can cure the police and..."  
  
"Clark, why didn't you just let Lionel get it?"  
  
"W-what?" asked Clark, stunned that his mother knew.  
  
"He called yesterday. He let me know that you were with him, what you were after, and he told me that he'd send you home as you could, but I knew that you wouldn't until you got the plant. Listen, Clark – you're missing school. We miss you; Pete, Chloe, and Lana miss you. Why don't you just come home?"  
  
"I..." began Clark, but he slowly burst into tears as it hit him how homesick he was. How long had it been since he woke up at six in the morning to do chores like cleaning out the barn and milking the cows? It seemed like forever.  
  
"Clark, I understand you wanted to protect Lionel and Sergeant Willows, but you don't have to anymore. Just let them do their job and come home."  
  
Jonathon heard Martha on the phone from the living room. "Martha, is that Clark? Let me talk to him."  
  
Martha nodded and gave him the cordless phone.  
  
"Clark, this is your father."  
  
"Dad? I – I just wanted to help."  
  
"Now listen to me, son. I know what's going on – Martha told me. You know I don't approve you working with Lionel, but if it's for the good of this town, I suppose there isn't much you can do. But those werewolves you're trying to protect Lionel and whoever else you're with can hurt you. Lionel can hurt you. It's too dangerous; come home," ordered Jonathon.  
  
"Dad, they don't have the plant yet. They don't even know where to find it. I can help them. I'm in Scotland now, and – "  
  
"You mean to tell me you kept following Lionel? Son, this has got to stop! You have responsibilities here; they can take care of themselves."  
  
"There's more at stake here than them finding out my secret or my grades. If the plant grows here, there might be more wolves - wolves that I can fight. The dad that raised me would want me to help Lionel and Willows get the plant for the men that were bitten. I can't come home yet."  
  
There was silence on the line. "You mean a lot to me, Clark – your mother, too. I can't let you stay over there knowing you could get hurt."  
  
More silence.  
  
"But... you do have gifts. And I will one day have to let you decide how you use them. Just don't let Lionel see you – the last thing we need is him breathing down our backs again."  
  
Clark smiled. "Thanks, dad. I love you both. Bye."  
  
"Come home soon, Clark. Bye."  
  
Back at the helicopter, Ellem was sick of waiting. He had spent hours in the cramped crate, and did his best to remain silent, but it was too much. When at last the helicopter landed and the moving ceased, Ellem burst out of the crate in a blind fury. The helicopter was empty, but he could see Lionel and Sergeant Willows leading her troops to the city.  
  
First he would wait until nighttime. Then he would make his move. 


	29. Chapter 27 Closing In

"It's not a Holiday Inn, but it'll do," decided Lionel as he stepped inside his hotel room and handed the key to Tom. "What do you think?"  
  
"Hmm? I'm sorry, what did you say, Mr. Luthor?" asked Tom, taken by surprise that he was being addressed by one of the most wealthiest and most powerful men in the world. "My mind was wandering..."  
  
"I said, Thomas, what do you think? You never seem to be speaking so you're either brain-dead or deep in thought at all times. I saw the way you handled that crossbow back in Ireland – so you're not brain-dead. Tell me what you think. About anything; it doesn't matter what."  
  
Tom was slightly confused, but spoke, "I like to think about where I'll be five years in the future. I know I'm not where I thought I would be five years ago. I thought I would be an actor on some teen drama or a family comedy."  
  
Lionel chuckled his signature laugh, "You wanted to be an actor? How in the world did you end up a troop in the National Guard?"  
  
Tom blushed, "I'm not really in the National Guard. I kind of switched places with a friend. It's still hard to believe that I got away with it, but we'll probably all get arrested for treason when we get back. As for why I joined the army in the first, it was upon insistence from my father. I bet if he could, he would make me rule the world, but he wants to keep that goal for himself to achieve."  
  
"Oh. He sounds like a fascinating man. I would like to hear more about him, but I think it's best we get some sleep."  
  
Tom nodded and threw his duffel bag onto one of the two beds.  
  
In the other room, Omar was chattering away like always. "Man, I don't see why Sergeant got to get a room all to herself. Lionel and Tom are sharing one, and you two and me are sharing one. It's not fair! The least she could have done was share a room with me! She worried about privacy or something?"  
  
"She's a lady," grumbled Derrick, taking out his hygiene products from his duffel bag, while Robinson slammed his stuff onto the other bed. "Ladies get privacy."  
  
"Well, I – Hey, no fair. You two got the beds. Where am I gonna' sleep?"  
  
Robinson looked at the floor.  
  
"Aw man, no way! Is this a racial thing? I bet that's it. That's why Lionel and Tom are sharing a room. They're both white. The minorities are –."  
  
"Omar that comment is way out of line. It's a miracle you made it through boot camp, you pathetic worm. You should be thankful for your life after Jack gave up his to ensure that you kept on living!" roared Robinson. From the other room, Willows' room, they could hear soft sobbing.  
  
"What is... is that Sergeant crying?" asked Omar, stunned. "Her and Jack must have had something going on."  
  
"It must be hard having to look strong all the time," muttered Derrick.  
  
Omar lowered his voice, "Can she hear us? Look man, I didn't mean anything by that thing I said earlier. I was just trying to kid around..."  
  
"Whatever, man, just shut up and get some sleep. Here." Robinson tossed a sleeping bag at Omar, who fell over as he caught it. "G'night."  
  
"I... Good night, guys. Hey, do you two sleep with your Beretta's under your pillow too?"  
  
"Shut up, man," said Derrick, pissed and tired.  
  
Early the next morning, Lionel and company – all wearing civilian clothes – checked out of the hotel and strode down the street without attracting attention. Omar had a problem with the concept of "blending in", because by the time they'd reached the end of the street, he'd already unsuccessfully hit on seven women – one of them considerably younger than himself.  
  
"Where are we going to find the Wolfsbane?" asked Robinson.  
  
"That's a good question. Lionel?" asked Willows.  
  
They stopped in front of a Rent-A-Car station. Lionel smiled, "We're not going to find it in Aberdeen. Let's rent a truck and investigate one of the smaller towns."  
  
With Lionel's influence, he quickly got them an SUV. They all piled in, but not without a comment from Omar. "Hey, Searge? Are you our soccer mom for the day? Ooh! Can we stop for ice cream? Can we, can we?"  
  
Willows smacked him.  
  
Within the hour, they were already driving through the countryside in search of a field that was filled with Wolfsbane. They soon realized that they'd need more help than just keeping a watchful eye out. They pulled into a small town called Wicket.  
  
Following not far behind were two separated figures: Ellem, in wolf form, and Clark Kent running at full speed. Each watched eagerly as the troops got out of the SUV and began asking around where they could find a field of Wolfsbane. For the most part, no one knew exactly where to find one.  
  
One man did, however. "Sure, I know. See that mountain crag over there? Behind that forest?"  
  
Lionel nodded.  
  
"There's a huge field of Wolfsbane flowers located behind that mountain. But you'd spend days driving around, or one day to climb it."  
  
"Thank you for your help."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Lionel reported back to the other troops and told them where the field was. Willows smiled when Lionel told them their options. "I think I have another alternative. We go back to the airport, pick up our helicopter, and fly over here to pick up some flowers. Then we just fly back to America and this whole nightmare finally ends."  
  
"One problem. What if the local government doesn't want us flying over their plant fields?" asked Robinson.  
  
"We have cloaking technology on the helicopter. We fly low, we might not even have to use it."  
  
"Then that's what we'll do."  
  
By the time they'd arrived at that conclusion, Clark was already halfway over the mountain and heading for the field to pick up the flowers. This way, he could leave the flowers at the helicopter in plain sight, and the team would never even have to fly back over here.  
  
There was one last detail, however. With Clark at last out of the way, the troops were unprotected. And Ellem hadn't left his position. He moved in for the kill. 


	30. Chapter 28 One More Death

_GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOWWWWLLL_!  
  
"What was that?" Tom wondered aloud. The question wasn't necessary. They all knew very well what had made the growl.  
  
"Oh God, not now..." murmured Willows. "Men! Into the town! Find weapons! Lionel, you stay in the SUV and pray he doesn't find you."  
  
Lionel shook his head and revealed his 9mm. "I'm armed, I can help."  
  
Willows took the gun and nodded, "Yeah, you can help by waiting in the car. Go!"  
  
Lionel waited for a moment, but finally decided to obey her orders. He made a dash for the SUV and successfully got inside and locked the doors.  
  
Meanwhile, the troops were going door-to-door asking for weapons, but most of the neighbors turned them away. Omar, however, stumbled upon an abandoned (it looked abandoned, anyway) construction site and found a pipe that had been cut in half, but not evenly, resulting in a sharpened end. He smiled and ran back to Willows.  
  
Derrick managed to borrow a baseball bat. Robinson finally tired of having doors shut in his face and ran deeper into the town to look for the sheriff's office. Tom found a somewhat sharp stick. Derrick and Tom met up with Willows and Omar in a clearing just outside the town.  
  
"Uhh... wait, where's the wolf?" asked Omar, dumbfounded.  
  
A low, unearthly growl came from behind. Omar whimpered, "Right. Okay, behind us. I'll count to..."  
  
Willows swirled around and fired three shots, but Ellem the Wolf managed to predict her move and leapt out of the way. Omar was the closest and charged Ellem. He slammed the pipe into the side of Ellem's skull, disorienting the wolf for a moment. Ellem managed to push Omar away.  
  
Tom was next. He gave a combat call and charged Ellem, driving the stick into Ellem's chest. It merely shattered into splinters.  
  
Derrick snuck up from behind and slammed the bat onto his skull. It too broke, but not without effect. Ellem howled in pain and leapt away, landing just beside the SUV.  
  
Lionel responded to his survival instincts and reached for the keys from the cup holder. He'd just picked them up when the wolf shook off his daze and looked at the SUV. He roared just as Lionel slammed the key into the slot and turned on the car, the engine purring loudly. He shifted into DRIVE and crushed the accelerator into the floor.  
  
Ellem was too busy to run after one pathetic human. He would deal with the ones he was facing now.  
  
Willows quickly checked how many bullets were left in her clip. Only three silver ones left – she'd have to make them count. She surveyed her surroundings: a rock – that's what she was hiding behind. Around the rock was barren land – the clearing by the road that led into the small town. Surrounding the town – forest. No, it wasn't the big picture she wanted to look at. Not that big anyway.  
  
Omar – lying a few feet away from her on the ground, slowly building up energy and the courage to attack the wolf again. Tom and Derrick stood side-by-side in front of the rock, carefully trying to walk out of the way.  
  
Ellem growled, then roared. He was confused – good. He was giving into primal, well, canine instincts and abandoning his human consciousness. That'd be the ideal scenario, anyway.  
  
Omar, finally sick of waiting, charged Ellem holding the sharpened end of the pipe out in front of him. He struck! The pipe went clean through the fur and the tough skin, through his internal organs, and out the other side.  
  
But he hadn't caused any damage. #%! All that preparation and he'd only managed to drive a pole through his body? No bleeding, no moaning, no... oh, dear Jesus...  
  
Ellem ripped the pipe out of chest and slammed it into Omar's skull. At first, it looked like he'd only been knocked unconscious. He'd come out with a mild concussion at the worst. Willows couldn't see that his neck had been horrendously turned 180 degrees before snapping back into place once he'd hit the ground. Blood squirted everywhere – out of his mouth, his nose, and his ears...  
  
_BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!_ Three silver-tipped bullets left the barrel of the 9mm and flew silently through the air, finally reaching their target less than a second later. Pummeling through his body at an incredible speed and with tremendous force, Ellem had no time to react. The silver did its work and he sank to the ground, changing back into his human form. Seconds from death, Ellem curled into a fetal position and shivered. "So cold..." he whimpered. "So cold..."  
  
Willows fought back the tears. It was over at last. But it wasn't time to mourn the dead. Not just yet. 


	31. Chapter 29 Homecoming

Martha Kent sat on the sofa sitting uncomfortably upright and gazing at the television set. It was turned on to some reality show, but she had no actual interest in the contestants or the show itself. She didn't know why she couldn't just get up and turn it off, but she had a feeling her thoughts were keeping her anchored down. She was afraid if she did anything, she would collapse and start sobbing.  
  
"Mom?" Oh no, now she was starting to hallucinate. She could swear that she just heard her son behind her. Clark? Maybe... maybe it was he. "Mom?"  
  
"Clark! You're home!" greeted Martha. She leapt from the sofa and rushed over to give Clark a big hug. "What happened? Are you all right? You must be hungry!"  
  
Clark grinned, "I'm fine, mom. Everything's fine."  
  
"Well, did you get the plant to cure the police? You're not hurt, are you?"  
  
"Mom – I'm fine. We found out it was called Wolfsbane, but the Wayne company wouldn't let us take any with us, so we had to go to Scotland. I saved them some time by running ahead and getting some Wolfsbane and bringing it back to the helicopter. When they came for the chopper, they found it inside and decided to go home. I just hitched a ride underneath."  
  
"Clark, that's wonderful. But I think right now, you should be telling everyone you're home. We all missed you."  
  
Clark nodded, but an expression of worry conquered his face. "Oh man, how long have I been out of school??"  
  
"Over a week. Principal Reynolds isn't happy," informed Martha.  
  
Clark hugged his mom, kissed her on the cheek, and ran out the door.  
  
8  
  
"Dad? Dad, is that you?" asked Lex weakly.  
  
Lionel smiled, his face illuminated by the light coming in through the stained glass window. "Yes, son, it's me. Are you all right?"  
  
Lex was lying in his bed. It was early morning. "Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I just had too much Scotch last night. God, I'm tired..."  
  
Lionel's face was neutral. "Scotch?"  
  
"My Achilles' heel, so to speak. How was Ireland?" groaned Lex as he got up. He needed to cut down on the alcohol. "Your assistant told me that's where you went. Any truth in that?"  
  
"Yes, it was a retrieval mission. I had to collect some Wolfsbane that could cure the local police."  
  
"Dad, that sounds mighty... generous of you. What happened to your strict businessman ways?"  
  
Lionel just kept smiling.  
  
8  
  
"Mr. Luthor! I wasn't expecting you so soon," said Dr. Teng as Lionel Luthor walked into the Metron Lab. "We're still on schedule with the blood sample you provided us."  
  
"Forget that for the moment. Did you receive the plant I sent you? The Wolfsbane?" asked Lionel.  
  
Dr. Teng paused for a moment. She was Asian, about five and a half feet, attractive features, but had a cold no-nonsense stare. She'd been working for Lionel for a while now. "Yes, I did. I extracted the chemicals you requested from it. I have a sample here. Why couldn't you just get one from Smallville General Hospital?"  
  
"I didn't want them to suspect anything." Lionel sat on a chair beside a cluttered desk, rolling up his sleeves as he did. The Metron Lab building was big, but the interior was more of a maze. It appeared closed down, but Lionel insured that the experiments continued under the guise of an abandoned building. Dr. Teng really wasn't any better at keeping her desks clean that Dr. Hamilton had been, though. Lionel looked at Dr. Teng. "Do it."  
  
Dr. Teng nodded. She crossed the room and picked up a syringe and vial from her desk. She tested it, and then returned to Lionel's side. "You sure you don't want a test subject to take it first?"  
  
Lionel shook his head. "I'd prefer I test it now."  
  
Teng injected Lionel with the serum she'd extracted from the Wolfsbane. She shook her head and almost chuckled. "You said in the e-mail that the Wolfsbane couldn't be used to heal anything other than wolf bites, what makes you think...?"  
  
"That information was given to me from a werewolf – he was insane. Or there may be some truth in what he said. No doubt that the Wayne Enterprise scientist are trying to mix in other chemicals with this serum. Maybe in its purest and rawest form... maybe then it can cure me."  
  
"If you say so. Shall I return to the other project in case this fails?"  
  
Lionel nodded, rolled down his sleeves, and walked out.  
  
8  
  
Lionel's office at LuthorCorp had remained unchanged. Papers neatly stacked on according sides on his desk. His laptop folded down. Beams of sunlight came in from the huge window behind his desk. Clark glanced over at one wall, which had concealed a giant vault that he'd discovered on a mission to rescue his mother last year. Was it still there? He'd destroyed the door earlier in the year while on a red kryptonite high.  
  
Clark flashed on his x-ray vision. Yes, the vault was still there, but two items from last year were missing: the octagonal-shaped key to the spaceship and the refined bars of kryptonite. Also missing was the sample of his blood that he stole a while back (on his red kryptonite high).  
  
The door to the office hissed open and in stepped Lionel Luthor. "Clark? What are you doing here? How'd you get past security?"  
  
Clark looked at him in confusion, hoping that that would stop him from asking any more questions. It worked.  
  
"Never mind, just tell me what you're here for. Can I do something for you?"  
  
Clark nodded. "Umm... well, it's about my absence... from school."  
  
"Oh, yes, don't worry about it, Clark. I spoke with Principal Reynolds a little earlier. You're excused." Lionel walked to his desk and sat down, opening his laptop as he did. Clark was a little confused as he stood a meter away, contemplating what exactly to do next.  
  
"Well, that's... thank you, Mr. Luthor," was all Clark could say.  
  
"You saved me in Ireland numerous times. It's the least I could do. Ah, there is one intriguing thing. I checked the airport records – you never got on the plane to Metropolis. How'd you get home?"  
  
Clark shifted his feet. "It was an open-ended ticket. I left later... I don't remember on which flight, though."  
  
"Why would you do that?"  
  
Clark shrugged. "I'll just leave. You look like you have work to do."  
  
"All right, Clark. Tell your mother I say hello."  
  
Clark nodded and left.  
  
8  
  
As Clark ran back home to Smallville, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something or someone.  
  
Then it hit him. _Edward_! 


	32. Chapter 30 Unfinished Business

Pete Ross slumped on his couch in his room as he mindlessly pressed button after button on his PS2. This was... what? The thirtieth level? He didn't really care. Onto the next level! He mashed more buttons.  
  
His mother, Abigail Ross, knocked on the door a split second before letting herself into her son's cluttered room. "Pete, there's a... how many times have I told you to clean up your room?"  
  
"I'll get around to it, mom!" insisted Pete. "What is it? Other than the demand to clean my room?"  
  
"Clark's on the phone. Sounds urgent," explained Abigail. She handed him the cordless phone. Pete pressed pause on his video game.  
  
"Clark? Hey...! You back home yet?"  
  
"Pete? Listen, yeah I'm home. But have you seen or heard from Edward?"  
  
"Nah, man. Last I ever saw of him was at the Talon way back. Why?"  
  
"I think he may permanently be a werewolf now. If my hunch is right, he'll be completely insane and have no control over his actions. He could hurt someone. Possibly even you."  
  
"Uh... I don't know if this helps, but did you know his parents went missing?"  
  
"No, I just got back home. I haven't had a chance to read the papers."  
  
"Oh, it wasn't in the papers. Someone called my mom and she let it slip to me, probably thinking I knew something because I'm 'buds' with their son. She can be a bit air headed sometimes."  
  
Clark rubbed his temple with one hand, holding his cell phone with the other. "Pete, if it wasn't in the papers and only your mom knew, why would you ask me if I knew that they were missing?"  
  
"Hey, I'm kind of in the middle of something. I'm not thinking clearly. Anyway, go on, do your superhero stuff."  
  
"We probably shouldn't be talking about this over a phone. Could be tapped."  
  
Pete grinned. Old Paranoid Clark was still the same. "Good to have you back, Clark."  
  
"Right. Bye, Pete." Clark hung up and probably zoomed off to somewhere. Who knew? Right now, Pete had some super speeding of his own to do in this game.  
  
S  
  
With a deafening _whoosh_, Clark arrived at the Drake residence not sure what to expect. There were to cars parked in the driveway – a jeep and a mustang – probably Edward's parents' cars. Clark switched to his x-ray vision and scanned the house.  
  
Nothing. No signs of life, anyway.  
  
Not convinced that the investigation here was to no avail, Clark snuck around to the backyard and shattered the lock on the back door. He entered silently.  
  
Clark checked upstairs, and found Edward's room deserted, like everything was moved out. Every other room in the house showed no sign of moving, however. How strange this was.  
  
He looked up and noticed a string dropping from the ceiling. For a moment, Clark was confused, then realized it was the attic. He pulled the string down, revealing the folded stairs. Clark climbed up to the attic.  
  
Still in x-ray vision, Clark looked around and found several boxes containing things that he'd seen in Edward's room the last time he had been there. It were as if his parents had given up hope that he would ever come home and decided to make the most of it and pack up. It didn't exactly give off the warm, kind image that his parents gave him, but did resemble the more cold-hearted love Eric Summers had been given.  
  
Clark looked down and exactly looked to many levels deep. What he saw made him gasp in horror.  
  
He saw a skull lying just inches away from the rest of its body.  
  
Gulping back the bile, Clark got up and moved away, took a deep breath of the musty mothball smell of the attic, (regretted it,) and ran at super speed down to the kitchen. He found a door that led to the basement. He cursed himself for not have seeing the basement when he first inspected the house from outside. Maybe he was more shook up from the events in Ireland than he originally had thought.  
  
Clark descended down into the basement, using his heat vision to burn off the occasional cobweb in the way. The unmistakable stench of blood overwhelmed his super human nose and nearly forced him to throw up. He was thankful that he had a stomach of steel, but it wasn't really making much of a difference right now.  
  
There, on the floor, were two bodies. One had had its skin and flesh ripped off, nowhere in sight. The other body had a long slash across the neck and seemed to be preserved for a later meal.  
  
"Oh God..." moaned Clark. "That's just sick..."  
  
"**I'm hurt... Clark...**" uttered a low, scratchy voice from behind. Clark turned around to find himself face-to-face with Edward in wolf-man form. "**Let's... see what else... you can do...**"  
  
Edward grabbed Clark by his flannel shirt collar and threw him through the ceiling and out the back wall. He landed hard on Sara Drake's garden.  
  
"**You put up... more of a fight... last time...**" reminded Edward. Every effort to talk through his awkward wolf muzzle seemed strenuous – and with good reason. Why would a werewolf have reason to talk? "We **have... unfinished business, Clark... So let's... FINISH IT**!"  
  
Clark got up and dusted off his jacket and nodded. "Let's."  
  
Edward charged Clark, knocking him backwards, but Clark was quick and twisted his body around so that he landed on Edward. Edward howled in pain. "**Lucky move... Kent.**"  
  
Edward pulled back his feet and kicked Clark off of him, sending Clark soaring high and out of control. Clark landed headfirst on top of the roof. He found himself in an awkward position, with his left leg and head stuck through the roof and the rest of his body still outside.  
  
"**Ha, ha! That the... best you can do**?" challenged Edward.  
  
In a heartbeat, Clark was back on the ground and zooming toward Edward. He hit him at such a force that no human could have survived, but it effectively dazed his wolf man opponent.  
  
"Enough with the commentary!" growled Clark. He punched Ed with his right hand. "It's just a fight between you and me!"  
  
He dished out a left hook  
  
"No one's here..."  
  
Another right hook.  
  
"...to listen to..."  
  
He punched him across his chin.  
  
"...your boasting!" Clark got up and lifted Ed by his hair (or fur). With all his strength, Clark hurled Edward away as far as he could.  
  
The sun was setting. Good. Clark would need the cover of darkness. He rushed to the spot where Edward landed – an area of forest. There was a crater, but nothing else.  
  
"AAARRRGHHHH!" yelled Clark in agony as ten claws sunk into the skin on his back and forced him to hit the ground face-first.  
  
Edward pulled Clark over so that his back was on the ground. Then, he punched him with his right hand. Then with his left. And across his chin. Clark was bleeding profusely by the time the punch-fest had ended.  
  
Slowly, Edward lowered his head and slammed the side of Clark's face onto the ground. Fangs wide open, Ed found the spot – it was to be a vampire-like bite, but no matter. He found his target. Just a few more centimeters and he'd be sinking his teeth into Clark.  
  
"_NO_!" roared Clark. He kneed Edward in the stomach, tossing him off of him.  
  
For a moment, they just stood their ground, staring at each other and panting. Exhaustion had sunk into both of them like the fangs Edward had intended to sink into Clark.  
  
_AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!  
  
Edward leapt onto Clark, dropping him once again. He didn't wait around this time, though. Instead he leapt off and landed beside a tree. Summoning all of his strength, Ed yanked the tree's roots out of the ground and slammed the tree into Clark as he was getting up. He lifted the tree over his head and slammed it down on Clark again. And again. And again.  
  
He didn't get another chance after that. Clark focused on the mightiest burst of heat vision he could summon – which to his surprise was a brilliant display of red, glowing, heat. The tree caught fire instantly and nearly disintegrated on the spot. Shocked, Edward let go, letting the tree slam on top of him.  
  
Edward howled in pain, and watched helplessly as Clark walked over to his limp body. Just as Clark was about to pick him up, Edward inhaled deeply and blew out a tremendous amount of air, knocking Clark off of his feet.  
  
Scrambling to his feet, Ed got up and rushed out of the forest, leaving Clark behind to stop the fire. With some improvisation, Clark was able to smother out the fire with his bare hands. One crisis averted, Clark got up to stop another.  
  
Once again, Clark found himself returning at the Drake house. Edward unsubtly crashed in through the front door. Clark followed closely behind.  
  
The chase ended in the kitchen. Edward pulled knife after knife and threw them at Clark. They bounced harmlessly off of his chest.  
  
Edward roared. "**Why... won't... you... just... DIE??**"  
  
Edward charged Clark, slamming him into the stove. Their impact ruptured a gas line, causing gas to leak into the air.  
  
Clark coughed, "Edward! There's gas filling the air! We have to get out of here!"  
  
Edward ignored him, grabbing every sharp object he could find in the kitchen and attempting to stab Clark with it. At last, he ran out of knives and slashed Clark across the chest with his claws. Even when all else failed, he still had his faithful claws.  
  
"Edward!"  
  
The gas was filling the entire house now. It was miracle it hadn't blown up yet. But Clark couldn't afford to take any more chances. He had to get Edward out of the house now.  
  
Edward roared in frustration. Clark just wasn't losing blood fast enough. "**That's it! Let's... see... you try... and stay whole... after your atoms are... splattered**!"  
  
"Edward, _NO_!"  
  
Edward put his claw on the marble tabletop and scratched it – hard. A tiny spark was emitted.  
  
_BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM_!  
  
And the entire house erupted in flames. The only being that came out alive, albeit scorched and naked, was Clark Kent.  
  
S  
  
"I don't get it," murmured Pete after Clark had explained the fight to his parents and Pete in the Kent family kitchen. "Why would Edward go back to the house after you beat him up in the forest? You would think he would have gone and found somewhere where he would have an advantage."  
  
"Maybe he did think he had the advantage in the house, Pete," smiled Clark. "He got the jump on me in the basement, tossed me through a concrete ceiling and a brick wall, and wasn't doing that bad while we were fighting in the kitchen. But he was trying to kill me, and I wouldn't stay still long enough to let him. He finally lost his cool – maybe he didn't think straight because of the gas – and decided to make one last ditch effort to try and kill me."  
  
"But he didn't," smiled Jonathon Kent. "Good to hear your Smallville stubborn streak's what kept you alive."  
  
"I don't care what it was – be it fate or miracle – he's home _at last_," praised Martha, enwrapping her son in a hug. "Now do you want chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal?"  
  
"Right now, I think I want to go to bed," grinned Clark. 


	33. Chapter 31 Town of Insanity

Chapter 31 – "Town of Insanity"  
  
"_...the remains of all three members of the Drake family were found in the explosion over half an hour after firefighters arrived on the scene. The fire department is not ruling out arson or the possibility of intentional murder due to some spine-chilling evidence. One firefighter said he found two bodies downstairs – the remains of Cain and Sara Drake – in the basement, and of the two, one of them had its head torn off. Ouch! Back to you, Linda!_" reported Elliot the reporter.  
  
"_Are Smallville's police officers being drugged? The police in Smallville have been treated with an unmarked, unidentified, and probably un-FDA approved serum. Sheriff Adams was alarmed, but allowed all of her deputies to be treated after being explained what it was for. The reporter was unable to hear why they were taking the serum, and suspects that they are being drugged with perhaps an experimental new medicine. We'll keep you posted. In other news..._"  
  
"Lana?"  
  
Lana jumped and nearly dropped the tray of empty coffee cups she was carrying. That wouldn't have been a good image for her, now would it? She turned and saw Chloe's warm, smiling face beaming at her. "Chloe! What are you doing here?"  
  
They moved away from the T.V., allowing the few others in the Talon to see it, even though no was paying attention to it. Chloe grinned, "I'm collecting all the weekend pieces for the Monday edition of the _Torch_. How I hate Mondays. You know, I report everything that happened over the weekend and then when the paper comes out, everyone's already read it in the _Ledger_. Stupid school newspaper."  
  
"The _Ledger_ isn't run almost single-handedly by an intrepid caffeine- junkie, which makes the _Torch_ all the more impressive. Coffee?" offered Lana as she set down the tray on the counter.  
  
"Yup." She drummed her fingers on the counter while Lana poured her a mug. "One piece of info you won't find in the Ledger is that our favorite farm boy came back at last."  
  
"Clark? Where's he been?" asked Lana, handing Chloe her coffee.  
  
"I don't know. I called him this morning looking for his mom and low and behold, guess who answered the phone. I pressured for more information but he seems to be immune. All he would say was that he never wants to own a dog."  
  
Lana frowned. "What do you think that's supposed to mean?"  
  
Chloe shrugged, gulping down the coffee. "So, Lana how's the 'mood' in Smallville?"  
  
"It's finally gotten back to normal. Or what passes for normal in Smallville, anyway. People aren't scared anymore. They're finally stepping out of their houses. Although judging by the 'crowd' we have here, you'd never guess it. How are you holding up?"  
  
Chloe's face was blank, trying to figure out what Lana was talking about. "Oh! You mean Edward! Well, it's pretty sad how he and his whole family died. His parents sure didn't deserve that, but between you and me... we both know it might have been better for Edward this way. I can't imagine having to live with a dual identity like that."  
  
"Yeah, it's pretty sad. But I meant... you know..."  
  
Chloe shrugged, "I've had other boyfriends hurt me a lot worse than he did. Justin Gaines, for example. Besides, I don't think he was transforming on purpose. I do wonder how he did that. Meteor rock exposure?"  
  
"That would have been a bit too fast. He had just moved here, so there wasn't much time for him to have been bestowed with powers by the rocks. So, I guess we'll never know," sighed Lana.  
  
"Guess not. So what are you doing later?"  
  
Lana hesitated, but Chloe was her friend. It was okay to tell her. "I got a letter from my great-uncle. He says he wants to see me."  
  
Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Really? Where's he live? Grandville?"  
  
Lana hesitated before answering. "Actually... jail. He was arrested like forty years ago."  
  
Chloe had no response to that.

S  
  
**From: ****mofnoahaol.com**

**To: ****LLSRLuthorCorp.com**

**Subject: Thank you  
  
Dear Mr. Luthor,  
  
I just would like to thank you and the brave soldiers you brought with you for helping the town of Noah with our wolf problem. I know we are merely a small, little village over the pond, but if you ever require the services of us, you are in our debt. Our whole town, in fact, thanks you. We think we'll be seeing a lot less of the wolf clans.  
  
- Pierce Ellsworth, Mayor of the town of Noah.**  
  
Lionel Luthor smiled. It was nice knowing that he had a small piece of loyalty over the Atlantic Ocean. Not that he needed it. Metropolis might as well be his city. He had a piece in everything that happened in it.  
  
At last he had a name for the town that had taken him and his comrades in! So... the town of Noah, eh? He'd have to keep an eye on it. It could be of some remote use to him in the future.  
  
Another e-mail arrived. This one was from Dr. Teng.  
  
**Subject: Failure**

**Lionel, I ran the tests after you took the serum. The Wolfsbane had absolutely no affect on your system. There is no change in your condition.**  
  
Lionel frowned, but had no one at whom to direct his anger. He got up and walked to his vault, opened it, and took out a bottle of scotch. He poured it into a glass and gulped it down. Good stuff.  
  
He heard a door hiss open from behind him. Slowly, he set down the Scotch bottle and dug into his vault, searching for the box he kept which held his spare handgun.  
  
"Hands on the floor!" commanded an authoritive voice.  
  
Lionel turned around slowly and was shocked by what he saw. "... Megan?"  
  
Megan Willows, wearing a sweatshirt with one sleeve ripped off and torn jeans, held a gun aimed at Lionel.  
  
"What happened?" asked Lionel.  
  
"What do you think?" spat Willows. "I come back to report that I stole a helicopter and cost the lives of two soldiers! Derrick, Robinson, and Tom were all discharged dishonestly. I was supposed to be arrested! And whose fault is it? Yours! You'll pay, Lionel. I'll make you pay here!"  
  
"Then what? Then what will you do?" reasoned Lionel, slowly inching to his desk.  
  
"I'll go down for murder, too, I guess. Stop! I see you trying to move to your desk. Stop right there!"  
  
"Meg, you're upset. You had to witness Jack and Omar die and you're blaming me for it. We both know we had no control over what happened. Without our efforts, the police force in Smallville would all become wolves and tear apart every last citizen. Once they're done with the farm towns, where do you think they would have gone? We made a difference."  
  
Willows' hands began to shake. She didn't know how long before she pulled the trigger.  
  
Lionel pressured on, "If it's your superiors that you're running away from, I can help. I can get you a new identity, a new face, and get them off your back. I can get you a new, undisturbed life. Just... put the gun down."  
  
"NO!" a tear fell down Willows' cheek. "No, monster!"  
  
If Lionel could just buy enough time...  
  
"I can help you, but you have to let me. Put down the gun. Put it down."  
  
He'd bought enough time. The doors were blown open by three bodyguards swarming in, responding to a distress call activated by a tiny device on the inside of Lionel's jacket cuff which was automatically activated in the event of a surge in heart rate. Willows turned around, taking her gaze off of Lionel. She whimpered, "No..."  
  
_BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!_ Willows fell to the ground, dead.  
  
The last loose end was tied up at last. Lionel shook his head and walked over to his window. He'd sleep well tonight.

S  
  
"I hope today will prove to be a more revealing session than our past ones, don't you, Lex?" asked Doctor Claire Foster as she sat down in a leather chair opposite Lex's desk. "And I would like to know why you've kept postponing our sessions."  
  
"That's just what I would like to talk to you today, Dr. Foster. Today, instead of talking to you about my time on the island like I promised, I want to talk about something else that affected me very personally – something very deep," explained Lex as he settled into his desk.  
  
"What happened, Lex?" asked Dr. Foster.  
  
"I..." Lex hesitated, unsure of how to continue. Finally, he found his words and pressed on. "Earlier, this week – last week, actually – my mansion was trespassed by a sick wolf-man crossbreed of some sort. That 'crossbreed' bit me. And within twenty-four hours, I found myself turning into that same beast."  
  
Claire Foster looked at Lex in disbelief. "Like a werewolf? You're a lycanthrope?"  
  
"Yes, a werewolf, so to speak. I... know this is difficult to believe, but it's true. Even my father can confirm this, along with a handful of witnesses at the local coffee shop. I can assure you, this actually happened. You have to believe me."  
  
Dr. Foster kept a poker face. "I believe you, Lex. While you were the 'werewolf', how did you feel?"  
  
Lex scratched his hairless scalp. "I... it... felt great. I felt powerful. I've been trying to avoid becoming my father, but when I was the werewolf, I really was no different. I took away lives just the same, but in a different matter."  
  
"Take away lives?"  
  
"My father's business deals have put many people on the street, Doctor Foster. But, as a werewolf, I was in control of so much more. It was a rush... so hard to explain..."  
  
"My instinct tells me to declare you insane on the spot, Lex, but my intuition tells me otherwise."  
  
"Aren't they the same?"  
  
Foster said nothing.  
  
"Well, doctor, the reason I'm telling you this is..." Lex's eyes drifted away from Doctor Foster and focused on the light that illuminated her and her surroundings from behind him. He turned around, gazing at the stained glass – at the sunlight coming in.  
  
"Lex?"  
  
"It's almost sunset..."  
  
"Lex?"  
  
Lex whirled around, suddenly aware of where he was. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. He wiped it off and took a swig from his glass of water. "I'm afraid, Dr. Foster, that I will have to postpone this session for just one more day. There's someone I need to see."


	34. Epilogue Return to Normalcy?

**Epilogue** – "Return to Normalcy?"  
  
Clark rested his head against the soft wooden beam in his loft. He gazed out the open barn window, looking at the setting sun. He always made sure to appreciate how beautiful they really were. He'd missed out on about a week's worth of sunsets and sunrises during his adventures in the United Kingdom.  
  
For a moment, Clark shut out the image of the sunset and meditated for a moment. He'd seen so much death recently. He guessed that it would come back to haunt him, though none of the murders were committed by his hands. How long could he go before he was the one with the blood on his hands? Or when his means of fighting could no longer be justified? His meditation was interrupted by footsteps.  
  
"Clark? Am I interrupting?" It was Lex.  
  
"No, of course not. C'mon up," invited Clark. "Something I can do for you?"  
  
Lex shook his head. "Nah. I just needed somewhere to clear my head. Then I remembered what a great view of the sunset your barn had. Good to see I didn't miss it yet."  
  
Clark nodded. "How've you been lately?"  
  
"I still can't get over the fact that, apparently, I was transforming into a wolf. I don't think Sheriff Adams can get over it either." Lex looked at Clark. "But I had a dream last night about it. It was real vivid, like a memory. I was strong, and fast. And I had hair, I was thankful for that."  
  
Clark laughed.  
  
"I killed my father." The laughter stopped. "And as punishment, his ghost came back and haunted me, catching me at my weakest. A giant bolt of lightening came and struck me down. Amazingly, I survived, but I was a vegetable for the last two seconds of the dream before I woke up."  
  
Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Lex, I know you have some issues with you dad, but if it really came down to it, would you consider him... well, evil?"  
  
"Evil? No, of course not. Misguided. Obsessive. In my case, neglectful. But not evil. If the ying-yang theory is correct, even the darkest of people have a touch of good in them. I like to think that goodness is shown in him by his not disowning me. Likewise, all good people have a touch of evil in them. I'd like to see what your dark side is like," commented Lex.  
  
Clark wouldn't. He was already very familiar with his dark side – expressed every time he was exposed to red kryptonite. "What about your dark side, Lex? Do you steal pens from the bank? Use public toilets without flushing? No, I got it, you leave the refrigerator door open, don't you?"  
  
Lex grinned, "I've been exposed!"  
  
There was silence for a long, uncomfortable moment. Clark finally spoke up. "So... is this werewolf business finally behind you?"  
  
"Well, I was treated with that serum they extracted from the plant you left. Since then I haven't turned into a werewolf. I'd say that's pretty good indication that I'm cured, wouldn't you?"  
  
Clark shrugged, "We'll have to wait until the full moon to find out."  
  
"Even so, I can say with confidence that I'm cured. Remember my high white blood cell count?"  
  
"Yeah, I forgot about that..." murmured Clark. More silence.  
  
The sun finally hid behind the horizon.  
  
Lex prepared to leave. "Well, sunset's over and I have work to do. I have to release a new brand of fertilizer by the end of the month. Not to mention I have to fill out some paperwork to pay the guys who fixed the Talon after all that damage that Edward Drake and me caused. Good talking to you, Clark."  
  
"See you later," said Clark. He sat on his couch and picked up a book, flipping through the pages to see if it was any good.  
  
Clark took one last look through the loft window and saw the first star of the night. He didn't make wishes on them any more, and he found that he didn't have a wish to make anyway. Everything was perfect as it was: normal.  
  
Well, that was incorrect. He did have one wish: that the souls of the Drake family may rest in peace now that this horror was over. It sounded more like a prayer really, but Clark took comfort in it.  
  
For a moment, Clark felt completely at peace, despite recent events. And it wasn't just the Ireland deal that bothered him. He was still haunted by his actions in Metropolis over the summer – all caused by his biological father, Jor-El. He would never admit that though. He would always blame himself, even if he knew it wasn't his fault. Such was the burden that came with his superpowers.  
  
But, for that moment, nothing disturbed him. He didn't know if some hormone or enzyme had been released by his alien body system, but something inside of him – something good – soothed him. Something that had a soft voice letting him know it would all be okay.  
  
It felt good.  
  
And it made him feel... _normal_.  
  
**THE END**


End file.
